SCITUATE — If the holidays ever leave you feeling cheated of their implied downtime, I highly recommend just starting your own.
Take ours, for example. It’s called Nautical Thanksgiving. Twice a year, on long weekends that bookend the summer, the gods of leisure (along with our friends’ parents) grant a large gang of us access to a sturdy little summer cottage perched on the shore. An old Navy house (complete with anchor-emblazoned official china), it has bunks and beds for a dozen, with enough floor and field space for the air mattresses and pup tents of a potential dozen or so more.