📖 🕯️Making a Reading Nook | Cozy Autumn Story | Relaxing Bedtime Story

0:02 Welcome to The Slow Life. I'm Jennifer Vino and I create, narrate and design the soundscape of this village of cosy stories to relax and unwind. Each week I share an original story. Read 2 times so you can relax even more during the second reading. I'm happy to announce my website, theslowlife.ca. It provides a space where we can connect and I can bring you all things cozy.

0:42 Let's settle in with some easy breathing at your own pace. With each inhale, let fresh air fill the space around your heart. With each exhale, feel the calm air spread through your body and flow out through your arms and legs, gently in through your heart, gently out through your body. And now let's begin. This story is called Making a Reading Nook, and it's about arranging things just so paperbacks and novels and being on a retreat in your own home. Fall is in the air and on my mind as I make my way through the aisles.

1:45 Shelves are lined with textures that belong to cooler days. Velvets, knits, woven plaids, pumpkins and leaves appear in patterns. Burnt orange and deep green are mixed with toasted almond and Maple cream. I choose a few accent pillows, soft and richly coloured enough to set the tone for the project that's waiting at home. The bags are full but light as I carry them to the car, and a flicker of excitement makes me bounce a bit after I slide into my seat. Finally, the bow window area upstairs will be given the makeover it deserves.

2:39 When I step into the house, I set the bags down, lower my shoulders and remind myself I'm not in any rush. I have a drink of water and the rest of the apple cinnamon smoothie. I'd blend it up this morning. Satisfied that I'm taking my time, I gather the bags and head upstairs. The windows at the end of the hall showcase the steady afternoon light across the floor and the rug. My chair already sits there, plush and inviting, angled towards the outdoors.

3:23 Until now, though, the area has felt unfinished, more like a place set up for decoration than a place to hang out. That will change today. When I finish making it into my cozy reading nook. I pull the new pillows from their bags, a coppery brown, almost cashmere feeling. One goes on to the seat. Another, a chunky cream knit, softens the back. 1/3 patterned with scattered leaves on brushed cotton rests against the arm. I arrange, adjust and shift them again until the colours mingle in the perfect way.

4:12 The plain chair is now more inviting with depth and warmth. From the hall closet that I secretly called the linen chest, I bring out a heavier throw blanket. It's thick and the top side is so soft that it's almost undetectable to the touch. I folded over the armrest with its end draped onto the rug. Another blanket in Plaid I drape casually across the back. Beside the chair I set a small cherry wood table and place a candle on it, the glass jar catching the sun, making it look as though it's already lit.

5:01 I don't light it yet but already I can imagine the evenings when it's flame and scent will fill the space. There's a floor lamp standing in the right spot, but I find out the bulb needs changing and take care of that against the wall. I arrange a short bookshelf I'd bought at a yard sale this summer, filling it with a few novels, some paper bags that I'll read once and pass on to others, and the journal I turned to when the mood sets in. I add a few more plush cushions to the extra wide window sill and against the wall, giving the corner extra softness. Fabrics layer against each other, smooth cotton, thick wool and fuzzy velveteen.

5:58 The Nook has really come together, not cluttered, but welcoming as a nest. Each piece contributes, just as I'd imagined. I paused to look out the window. The trees have just begun their shift into autumn, their green leaves showing faint touches of yellow and red. September's magic hour is spilling in across the chair, soaking into the folds of fabric and making them glow. The Nook seems ready now, eager for use, and I'm absolutely going to oblige. But first, some finishing touches. The kittens have a soft bed downstairs that they actually use, so I bought a second and I place it now in front of the bookshelf within the space.

6:58 Another candle will fit on top of the shelf, along with some crocheted pumpkins, a gift from a talented friend. Down in the kitchen, I heat some almond milk on the stove. I take my time pouring it into a generous mug that holds the chewy mix I've already added. The heat releases the fragrance even more, sending it upwards in the steam. It takes both hands to lift and I carry it upstairs, down the hall and into the mellow space I've created.

7:39 Two furry folks have found their new spot and look up, as if wondering why I'm not already settled in. I set down my bowl of a mug and light the candles. Almost unreachable style. A couple of choices for books within close reach of my chair. I rearrange pillows again, choosing the right ones for behind my back, under my arms, and one for my lap. The first moment of sitting in the chair is transformative. I sink into softness, my back propped up to my liking, my legs pulled up.

8:25 For now, I lay the softest throw across my legs under the softest of the pillows, all tucked in, knowing the tea is too hot for me just yet. I still bring the drink to my mouth, just feeling the heat. It breathes autumn into me, as this scent always has. I open a book and let the pages fall into place. The comedians personal stories bring me into her world. Off the stage and screen, she's always made me laugh with her getups and antics and interactions with others talented enough to join her on her show. After reading for some time, I can tell that hours will pass. Sitting here without noticing time at all, I imagine mornings with my journal and pen, afternoons and evenings with novels, always a cup of hot something beside me. September always seems to inspire transitions. Days in this month can carry both the brightness of summer and the shelter of autumn.

9:50 Creating this new area to feel at home in my own home was just what today called for. This reading nook is my retreat, my haven, a place that exists now for comfort and stillness at any time of day. Making a reading nook fall is in the air and on my mind as I make my way through the aisles. Shelves are lined with textures that belong to cooler days.

10:31 Velvets, knits, woven plaids, pumpkins and leaves appear in patterns. Burnt orange and deep green are mixed with toasted almond and Maple cream. I choose a few accent pillows, soft and richly coloured enough to set the tone for the project that's waiting at home. The bags are full but light as I carry them to the car, and a flicker of excitement makes me bounce a bit after I slide into my seat. Finally, the bow window area upstairs will be given the makeover it deserves.

11:20 When I step into the house, I set the bags down, lower my shoulders and remind myself I'm not in any rush. I have a drink of water and the rest of the apple cinnamon smoothie. I'd blend it up this morning. Satisfied that I'm taking my time, I gather the bags and head upstairs. The windows at the end of the hall showcase the steady afternoon light across the floor and the rug. My chair already sits there, plush and inviting, angled towards the outdoors.

12:04 Until now, though, the area has felt unfinished, more like a place set up for decoration than a place to hang out. That will change today. When I finish making it into my cozy reading nook. I pull the new pillows from their bags, a coppery brown, almost cashmere feeling. One goes on to the seat. Another, a chunky cream knit, softens the back. 1/3 patterned with scattered leaves on brushed cotton rests against the arm. I arrange, adjust and shift them again until the colours mingle in the perfect way.

12:53 The plain chair is now more inviting with depth and warmth. From the hall closet that I secretly called the linen chest, I bring out a heavier throw blanket. It's thick and the top side is so soft that it's almost undetectable to the touch. I folded over the armrest with its end draped onto the rug. Another blanket in Plaid I drape casually across the back. Beside the chair I set a small cherry wood table and place a candle on it, the glass jar catching the sun, making it look as though it's already lit.

13:42 I don't light it yet but already I can imagine the evenings when it's flame and scent will fill the space. There's a floor lamp standing in the right spot, but I find out the bulb needs changing and take care of that against the wall. I arrange a short bookshelf I'd bought at a yard sale this summer, filling it with a few novels, some paper bags that I'll read once and pass on to others, and the journal I turned to when the mood sets in. I add a few more plush cushions to the extra wide window sill and against the wall, giving the corner extra softness. Fabrics layer against each other, smooth cotton, thick wool and fuzzy velveteen.

14:39 The Nook has really come together, not cluttered, but welcoming as a nest. Each piece contributes, just as I'd imagined. I paused to look out the window. The trees have just begun their shift into autumn, their green leaves showing faint touches of yellow and red. September's magic hour is spilling in across the chair, soaking into the folds of fabric and making them glow. The Nook seems ready now, eager for use, and I'm absolutely going to oblige. But first, some finishing touches. The kittens have a soft bed downstairs that they actually use, so I bought a second and I place it now in front of the bookshelf within the space.

15:40 Another candle will fit on top of the shelf, along with some crocheted pumpkins, a gift from a talented friend. Down in the kitchen, I heat some almond milk on the stove. I take my time pouring it into a generous mug that holds the chewy mix I've already added. The heat releases the fragrance even more, sending it upwards in the steam. It takes both hands to lift and I carry it upstairs, down the hall and into the mellow space I've created.

16:20 Two furry folks have found their new spot and look up, as if wondering why I'm not already settled in. I set down my bowl of a mug and light the candles. Almost unreachable style. A couple of choices for books within close reach of my chair. I rearrange pillows again, choosing the right ones for behind my back, under my arms, and one for my lap. The first moment of sitting in the chair is transformative. I sink into softness, my back propped up to my liking, my legs pulled up.

17:06 For now, I lay the softest throw across my legs under the softest of the pillows, all tucked in, knowing the tea is too hot for me just yet. I still bring the drink to my mouth, just feeling the heat. It breathes autumn into me, as this scent always has. I open a book and let the pages fall into place. The comedians personal stories bring me into her world. Off the stage and screen, she's always made me laugh with her getups and antics and interactions with others talented enough to join her on her show. After reading for some time, I can tell that hours will pass. Sitting here without noticing time at all, I imagine mornings with my journal and pen, afternoons and evenings with novels, always a cup of hot something beside me. September always seems to inspire transitions. Days in this month can carry both the brightness of summer and the shelter of autumn.

18:31 Creating this new area to feel at home in my own home was just what today called for. This reading nook is my retreat, my haven, a place that exists now for comfort and stillness at any time of day. I wish you sweet dreams.