Rock Lobster

As long as I can remember I have lived a hop, skip or jump away from a state park. Through high school, I climbed all over Blue Mound and hopped the border to Palisades, where we carried on in such a manner as I would never allow my children. In college, we snuck into Brawner Lake for swimming before it was annexed to Camden, where we also hiked and rode horseback with some townies. After college, we met family there as a central point, and discovered its a sweet little panfish spot. Today, when the kids were nagging to go swimming, I tossed 'em in the car and we lit out for the beach at Lac qui Parle. There was a beautiful breeze, and a few other families had the same idea. There were some other kids to play with but no crowd. I specifically went to get some sun on my legs, which resemble the underside of a bullhead in color, but instead found my shoulders and back another seafood color: lobster red. Forgot I was wearing a sport-back tank and missed a bit with the sunscreen. My legs are still pasty white, though. The upshot of all this is that it's nice to be able to just grab the swim bag and hit the door without packing for a 3-day excursion. William fell asleep at church tonight in the high chair, he was so wrung out from swiming an playing hard. I need to go sleep hard now in preparation for a graveyard shift. The rest of you enjoy this beautiful evening. No, go on. Don't mind me. Really. I'll be fine.