Back in the day, the wealthy folks in Washington, D.C., would take to the country in the summer. One of the more popular "country" places was Takoma Park. The idea was to get out of the swamp and into fresh country air.

Some things never change. Every summer, loads of people wander out of their urban (and suburban) holes and head off to the country--or the beach, or the mountains or just about anywhere other than home. The idea is a respite from the everyday. It seems to work well enough. Lots of us keep doing it every year.

If you've ever spent a week at the beach or in the mountains or in resort housing in general, you might have marvelled at the almost impossibly cheap quality of the construction. We have friends here in Takoma Park who live in former summer vacation homes, and they have found out the hard way that builders in the late 19th century weren't necessarily any more interested in quality than folks today. It turns out that "historic" in Takoma Park often also means "built by bums."

But your vacation home isn't supposed to be as good as your regular home. It's a place to get away from the bustle and heat of the city. Neighbors of ours rent a cottage out on the western shore of Chesapeake Bay. The cottage is (maybe) four hundred square feet, with no running water and minimal electric (enough to power a window A/C). But the temperatures are cooler with the bay breezes, and as long as you don't pee on the outhouse floor, there's no reason for complaints.

In these days of 100-degree heat here in a former resort town (now an inner-ring suburb), I wonder exactly how much relief folks would get in their escapes to old Takoma from D.C. Then I remember what D.C. used to be: a swamp.

A real swamp, the confluence of Tiber Creek (which is now completely underground, but used to run down from Columbia Heights), Rock Creek and the Potomac. What is now the Mall used to be a fetid tidal swamp. I know a few folks who love swamps, but in the summer, they suck. Or, more specifically, the insects in those swamps suck. A lot. Of my blood.

And so a house in Kensington or Takoma Park might have seemed real nice back in 1890. You're three or four-hundred feet above the muck of downtown D.C., and there is a bit of room to breathe. Plus, the water is cleaner (fewer people are--literally--dumping their shit in it).

I like going to the beach and I like going to the mountains, but I don't need such a getaway. What I do need is a bit of A/C, at least at night. We keep our thermostat set a big higher than most folks, but I like to sleep without completely sweating myself to death.

After a day of pitching batting practice for an hour or two (or sometimes more), kicking the soccer ball around for a while and seeming to drain my body of all tangible liquid, a couple gallons of water and modestly cooler air is welcome in the evening. I don't even have to eat; my body isn't really in the mood.

So enjoy your summer, wherever you are. Drink lots of vitamins (unfiltered wheat beer is chock full of the B variety) and don't work too hard. There will be plenty of time to return to the swamp and get things done once football season begins.

Jon Worley doesn't actually take it easy all that often, but he thinks it might be a good idea.