BOLINAS, Calif. — When my husband was a young boy, he spent one week of every summer at his grandparents’ cottage on Lake George in the Adirondacks. There’s an old YMCA camp there, a resort of the rustic, shuffleboard-and-square-dance variety. Life centered around a big main house with a generous, open-air porch, lined with rocking chairs that faced the water. Kids soldered stained-glass tchotchkes for their parents at the crafts cottage and took sailing lessons from the boathouse dock.
If you ask my husband, this is the place that has defined summer for him his whole life long. Seven years ago, we got married there, as did my husband’s parents and grandparents before us.