A genie has granted your wish to build your perfect space for reading and writing. What’s it like?

My perfect space for reading and writing, what does that mean? As of right now, I am typing away at my desk on the family's computer in the small room that we lovingly call the library; it has one floor to ceiling bookshelf with many of our books that we felt were important enough to keep all these years. The library also has a wood stove for the many cold days of Blandford and an air conditioner for those rare sweltering days of heat during our short summers. We have a futon and a t.v, so that if anyone wants to keep us company while we are on the computer; they can sit comfortably and read or watch t.v. Would I need a genie to improve on my current reading and writing situation?

Since this is a fantasy type question, why not? I would ask that the genie find me a place in France, specifically Piraillan, and I would have my reading and writing room be in a villa that is a street over from the daily farmer's market. The villa that I am envisioning is set off the road on a property elevated from the street with a large garden in front of it so that you have complete privacy from your neighbors and the street traffic. The sun's exposure would be in all the rooms because the terrace would wrap the house completely and the windows would all be French floor to ceiling doors. The chimney would be in the large living room and the reading and writing room would be right off the living room. I would have a big desk with a wide comfortable chair and there would be a long settee lounge chair off from the desk, the sun would come streaming from all around and the doors to the terrace would open up to an herb garden just off the terrace. I would be smelling rosemary, thyme, lavender and oregano as well as basil and sage while I was reading or writing. I shouldn't forget the smells of the pine forest, that are a daily part of the olfactory experience, since we would be living in the midst of tremendously tall pine trees everywhere. The hint of the smell of the ocean would waft in the open doors because the bay is just across the road and the Atlantic Ocean is only five kilometers through the forest, a short bicycle ride away. I could spend the rest of my days reading, writing, cooking and baking, all in the serenity and tranquility of my little house in Piraillan France. Thank you Mister genie man!

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