Yesterday we went to a local beach on the lake about 10 minutes from our house. Well, it’s less a beach in the way we know one to be, and more a “swim area at a park”, which takes entirely too long to say. So when I referred to it as the beach, the kids would say, “it’s not a beach!” That didn’t deter them from enjoying the place though. Two swam, just as I did growing up, inside the roped-in area, staying clear of the rowboating lifeguards as they swapped out positions, diving for rocks and shells (freshwater clams?) in the murky (but more transparent than VB ocean) water. The third was perfectly happy sunbathing on the shore, which I will clarify, was grass, not sand. Because it wasn’t a beach.