This week’s Top Ten Tuesday prompt is a non-bookish freebie, but nothing totally unbookish was coming to mind. Instead — prompted by my new reading nook — I thought of one of my favourite first lines: “I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.” (That’s from Dodie Smith’s I Capture the Castle.)

So, here’s a list of my reading spots over the years, some odder than others.

1. The stairs. I did this at both my grandparents’ house and at home. At my grandparents’ house I’d often just sit on the second-to-top step and dangle my legs through, since the steps had gaps between them. At my parents’ house I tended to start on the top step and move down a step for each chapter read (and then back up, again, a chapter at a time); I don’t really remember why, but apparently it was fun?
2. The shower. This one requires a bit more explanation, I guess. At some point, my grandparents had a small cupboard (maybe an airing cupboard?) converted into a very small shower room. I used to get in there and read, in part because I could lock my sister out, and in part just because I liked small spaces. I sat in the shower cubicle or on the postage-stamp of floor outside it, and I guess that felt like a den! I grew out of this eventually because I got long legs (though I never got very tall) and it stopped being comfy. Bah.
3. By the front door. I used to like watching people come and go, and especially watching Mum get home from work, so I’d read sat by the front door, peering out through the distorted glass window every so often. I remember Dad bringing me snacks of apple and cheese there, and my teddies set up to look out of the window!
4. In bed, in a “tent”. I had a high sleeper bed from when I was quite little, and one thing I used to do was drape my duvet over the top of the railings and tuck it under, creating a little tent. My parents used to oblige this sometimes by letting me have a sleeping bag as well, so I would “camp” in my own bed. I also had a torch, so I could read riiiight inside the “tent”.
5. Under the high sleeper, with a blanket hung over the side. With a blanket hung over the side and the wall behind, and a desk built in on one end, it all became very cosy underneath the bed. It was a great place to read, since I had a sofa under there and a light — and also a good space to play in and around. The bed part was often the deck of a ship, and the part below the cabin, and I both a fierce pirate captain (on top) and a helpless captive with nothing to do but read (when in the “cabin”). Even once I was older I kept this up for cosiness’ sake, with slightly less imagination.
6. Sat on a wall outside the childminder’s house. Sometimes it was the only way to get some peace and quiet to read, with her kids running riot alongside my sister (I was a bit older). I have no idea how I found that comfy, but I know I stayed out there reading for hours sometimes. I think the childminder used to worry she’d get in trouble with Mum, but I’m pretty sure Mum just knew what I was like and would ignore it…
7. With my back against a radiator. I am not very good at staying warm, so in winter I can often be found curled up to a radiator. Dad put guards on all the radiators at home, but when I lived with my grandmother for a while after finishing my second degree, I used to go into the spare room to sit against the radiator there. I also did that in my last flat…
8. On the floor, with rabbits snuffling around me. This was mostly in our flat in Belgium, where the bunnies roamed freely because the floor was tiled rather than carpeted and there was less for them to nibble. Sometimes I hang out with the bunnies and read now, but less so, because Biscuit is fiendishly jealous of anything I’m paying more attention to than I am to her. She’s bitten my books in the past. Still, the funniest story is when I used to read with a reading light, because we had a studio flat and my wife needed to sleep, but I couldn’t. One night, Hulk snatched my reading light and hopped off with it, the light bobbing along with her… I woke my wife up laughing about it.
9. On the floor, leaning against a hedgehog. An inflatable hedgehog from Ikea, I hasten to add. They’re no longer sold, but when I saw one in their showrooms a while ago, my dad made it his mission to obtain not one but many. They’re hard to find now — it took me ages to find a page with a picture — for which you can probably thank my dad, as I think he has “adopted” several for future need. Anyway, my personal hedgehog companions Norman and Hogglestock are now roaming the new house, so I’m sure I’ll be returning to my hedgehog-cuddling reading spot soon enough.
10. Below the bed, in a recliner. At the new place, I have a high sleeper once more to act as a spare bed for when I have trouble sleeping and need to leave the main bedroom and go to bed separately. It helps save space, which I have filled with a recliner. It’s very comfy! And I might just drape blankets over the side again, or even ask my wife to sew some kind of curtains for it…

Probably I’ve done other weird things when reading, since I do have a love for small spaces and cosy spots — I have sized up one of our cupboards at the new place and considered taking a pillow and blanket in there to read for a while (with my ereader, since there’s no light). I’m not promising I’m never gonna do it, though I’ll have to do so before we put anything away in there if I’m going to: I don’t think the fans, boxes, etc, will be super comfortable company.

What about you? Any reading nooks or stories about reading in weird places?