Blake Tovin and his wife, Suzanna Frosch, bought their cottage in Maine out of a longing for tradition.
"Before we had children, we spent our summers vacationing along the Eastern seaboard," Tovin says. "We'd go to Block Island or Long Island, maybe Nantucket. After our son was born, we wanted to find a place where we could put down roots."
When the couple visited midcoast Maine, they immediately sensed it was the right place for their growing family. Tovin and Frosch, textile and furniture designers, respectively, found their shingled cottage on a picturesque cove not far from where Andrew Wyeth painted "Christina's World."
Now at the end of their eighth summer in Maine, the couple have come to realize that shuttering their home at the end of the season has evolved into a ritual-filled family tradition that is as integral to summer as picking blueberries or lying on the beach, gazing at the stars.
Closing up the house
When it's time to pack up at summer's end, Tovin handles the boats and the exterior of the house. Frosch tackles the interior. "Once I've packed up the clothes and belongings that go home with us, I clear off the countertops and dressers and then wipe everything down with a damp cloth," Frosch says.
The final morning
Frosch strips the beds and covers each of them with a flat cotton sheet to protect the mattresses from dust and vermin. She washes the linens and places them in ventilated plastic storage bags. Then Frosch labels the bags — guest room, twin, master — so there's no guesswork next summer. She also mulches the flower beds.
"I use seaweed — rinsed in fresh water before using — around my hydrangea bushes," she says.
Before leaving
Frosch unplugs the refrigerator, cleans it out and leaves the fridge door open so air can circulate. She also locks the windows and pulls the blinds.
"It feels as though I'm tucking the house into bed for the winter when all the shades are drawn," she says.
Their son, Walker, lowers his possessions from the treehouse, then Tovin secures its doors and windows. "The treehouse faces the water, so it takes a real beating all winter long," Tovin says.
A few hours before they depart, he boards up all of the windows. "The boards came with the house," he says. "They've probably seen 40 winters." Next Tovin turns off the gas and water, throws the main power switch and calls the plumber to drain the pipes.
"After that," Tovin says, "it's packing up the car, taking the milk to the neighbors and saying goodbye until next year."
Last but not least, Frosch sweeps the floors and then scrubs them with Simple Green and Dr. Bronner's almond soap. "I literally mop us out the door," she says.
"When we leave, the air feels like fall," says Frosch. "Somehow that makes it easier to drive away."
Distributed by New York Times Special Features