My husband, the one with his leg in plaster from a fall in the snow on Boxing Day, is currently working from home.
We usually share the space in our study (smallest bedroom) quite happily. His lap top accommodates a much loved very old work horse of a table which has followed me from house to house. I have a piece of kitchen worktop installed in an alcove at exactly the right height for me. Fixed on three sides to a wall, it gives me plenty of space, with all my bits and pieces in handy drawers on wheels which tuck neatly beneath when not in use.
After working at length on his laptop at the much loved table he decreed that actually my work surface was at a much preferred height (I know, having once sewn from the table) but he also needed the table to lay out his files and plans.
I was surprised how much it got to me, having to move out from my little space. ‘You can have it back at the weekends’, he said, but I had lost the beauty of snatching a few minutes here and there.
Sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures. I’ve been sewing in the bathroom.
Love, Lucie xx