Growing up, my family and I spent the weekends at our small country house on Long Island's east end. The house itself is to date, my favorite home ever. Crafted with whitewashed triangular ceilings, no walls and the best back deck ever, my favorite ammenity so to speak was the outdoor shower my father built for us. I still remember carving my name in the grey conrete just after he poured the floor when I was about five years old.
Needless to say, showering outside is the jam. There's nothing like feeling a warm breeze on your bum after coming home from a day at the beach, sandy bathing suit in tow. We're in the middle of moving and there is room outside for a small outdoor shower. Hmmm . . .
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