Summer fun has never been my kind of fun. I don’t like heat. I burn easily. I like wool sweaters and socks, thermoses of hot soup, and ice hockey. So when we decamped for Virginia, my plan for May to September was to ride out the daylight hours indoors with the AC running full blast and then sit on the porch with a beer and/or bourbon after sundown. Our dear friends (and distant relations) Patrick and Freedom spoke highly of their swim club as an antidote to Virginia summers, but I was skeptical. Pools, after all, are places where books get wet. [Read more…]