My Aunt June and Uncle Pete used to have one of these in their cottage in Brewster Park
on Cape Cod. We lived year round on the Cape and thus our house had none of that delightfully
half assed aura (for lack of a better word) that a summer cottage had. A summer home smells
inherently different than and continuously occupied house. There's a funky, earthy smell that
overpowers the cooking/laundry and people smells that dominate an ordinary house. O.K.
so it's probably a cocktail of mold, mouse droppings, mildew and dust mites, but whatever it is
it has a special place in my heart. A key ingredient to that smell is heat, nothing, absolutely
nothing smells better than a summer home in Autumn (Indian Summer Here) on a cold morning
with the heater warming up (be it a Warm Morning as pictured or a Wood/Coal Stove) and
coffee and bacon on the stove. The only thing that might be better than that is listening to the
Red Sox in October on A.M. around a campfire on a transistor radio (borderline reception helps
here) civilisation is at it's sweetest when you have to work for it.