Funny article in Slate entitled On Not Owning A Vacation Home by Timothy Noah. Read in full here.

I do not own a summer house. The summer house I don't own has not been in the family for three generations. It's a simple, shingled affair, weathered and dear, with fishnets not hanging from the ceiling, duck decoys not arrayed on the shelves, and a large, yellowing map of the area, festooned with incomprehensible nautical markings, not stuck to the wall with pushpins not manufactured in 1954. I love the scent it doesn't give off of mothballs mingled with mold.