Scrumpy Cider

Where is your place?

The place your mind jumps to when every one of your senses seems to need a tender hug? 

Taste. Smell. Sight. Touch. Sound.

You know those weeks: when life is everything

 loud, dramatic, stressful, exhausting, too. much. stimulation...

Where is that place you dream of running off to? Your place to be soothed.

Mine is a little challenging to get to in a hot minute - it's actually an old English pub, "a local". Deep in the countryside.

One that serves scrumpy cider preferrably.

There is just something found there that ministers to all my HSPness.

They're dimly lit. There's nearly always a fire (or two) going. Often a dog (or 10) lounging at their master's feet. Quiet, interesting conversation to be had. Delicious, filling stew on the boil...

It's just everything calm and cozy and peaceful and intimate and flavorful and wonderful to me.

These English country pubs...

My tangible place - the place that soothes both body and soul the instant I walk under the low-framed stone doorways. They slow my heart rate. They calm my frazzled nerves. They let my inmost being breathe deep and slow.

And I'm curious: what's yours?