After traveling, I love coming home. I used to think that I could be a gypsy. Maybe so, but I’ve been thinking lately that I’m really comfortable with this season of life; being able to haunt my own house, settle into a favorite chair, run my fingers around the lip of my favorite cup. There’s such a comfort in HOME, in your own personal refuge. Your sheets smell right, there’s that perfect chip in the counter top down at the end of the bar, and you can throw open the shutters whenever the mood strikes.

I find all of these little quirks and rituals around them to be a form of meditation.

There’s the way we start our mornings, quietly putting a kettle of water on to boil, and making the most delicious pour over.

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Then lunchtime, selecting the freshest ingredients (aside from, of course, the mini pepperonis…can those ever really be fresh?).

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And finishing with a traditional masala chai in the afternoon. I mean seriously. How can these things leave anyone in any state of mind except happy?

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Speaking of happy, yesterday was the International Day of Happiness. That is most definitely one of my favorite things.

Yes Ma’am and Yes Sir.

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