Home, sweet home

Does your house grate on your nerves? Perhaps you have suffered the same mauve-and-blue-geese wallpaper in your living room for decades. Your children have tie-dyed your sofa with condiment colors. Your yard looks August-scraggly, and your garden resembles a vacant lot.
What can a person do to banish discontent with her home? Besides work on it, I mean.
The obvious answer: go camping. Preferably tent camping, during the hottest, muggiest week of the year. I guarantee your home will look 200 percent better when you return. Mine does.
First and foremost, I give thanks for our blessed bathrooms, reachable without a half-mile hike or an Olympic sprint at 2 a.m. My husband and I do not have to share these with 157 strangers, encountering someone else’s teeth floating in a little plastic dish under the mirrors. My shower, though seldom spotless, does not require shoes. Nor do millipedes with a death wish attempt to join me there. True, I suffer from occasional arctic deluges or my shower’s hot flashes, depending on laundry, dishwasher and my husband’s wash cycles. But I know its quirks, whereas the camp shower randomly cooked and froze me until I felt like a giant lump of Mexican fried ice cream.

To read more, see Wednesday, Aug. 25, 2010 Pilot News print edition.

Rachael Phillips, a former Plymouth resident and the 2004 Erma Bombeck Global Award winner, is a freelance writer whose novella “Ride with Me into Christmas,” part of “A Door County Christmas” collection, will be released in September 2010. Check out her website at www.rachaelwrites.com for more articles and connect with her on Facebook and Twitter.