So I ditched the Beneficent Mr. Hall and loaded up Betsy for a trip to the beach.

I don’t, as a rule, write at the beach. I think at the beach. There’s something about waves that’s very conducive to thinking. As it happened,  I already knew what I needed to think about. And fortuitously, the beach gave me a great tip. (You can read all about it over at The Muffin today.)

Now if I can just keep my eyes on the waves rather than the surfer boys…