I didn’t grow up on a lake. The closest thing we had to a lake was the Hoover Dam (not the Hoover Dam damming the Colorado River, but rather the smaller, lesser known Hoover Dam damming the Big Walnut Creek).

In Michigan it seems like everyone grows up on a lake. They do water sports and they know how to drive boats and they don’t care about the yucky muck in the water. This is all foreign to me.

I hadn’t planned to leave town for Memorial Day weekend. But Friday came and it had been a pretty crummy week and I needed to get away. So we headed to Fenton, MI to do lake things.

We drank lots of beer and ate lots of food and spent a lot of time floating (which, it turns out, I am very good at doing). And all that eating and drinking and floating has made this week just a little bit easier.