Now that we’re good and settled into our new home, I have a confession to make.

Okay, let me step back a second and tell you about camp. I loved sleep-away camp. I loved it for the independence I learned. I loved it for the casual, folksy way that we celebrated Shabbat and being Jewish. I loved it for the hippy counselors (though I always wished that Joy would wear a bra. Seriously, it scared us when we were young) and I loved the music and Frankie & Johnny and the canoe rides down the Delaware and camping out.

And I loved the way the wood bunks smelled on Fridays when we cleaned them. They smelled like Pine Sol. That clean wood smell. Swabbing the floor. I can’t explain it. (But I think wjg understands.) And I loved that the bunks were made of wood all over. They were rustic. You could see the 2 by 4′s. And when I stared up at the ceiling as I thought about sleep, I loved the wooden planks that made up the A-frame ceiling.

And that was the view I had as I drifted off – exhausted and excited for the next day of archery and swimming and volleyball.

So here’s the confession.

Our new home has wooden plank ceilings and, though they’re not exactly like camp, they are reminiscent of those carefree days.

And while I don’t use Pine Sol on our wood floors here, I do use Method (love that almond scent) and when I mop the floor, it makes me think of those swabbing days. It’s comforting.

Oddly so.

Is my home like a camp bunk?

Well, there are some similarities.

Lots of kids. And noise.

Wooden structure with wood floors. Lots of trees. Wildlife.

A guy cook. Vince at camp. Andrew now.

A place where all my dreams can come true.