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When I was a kid, I never got a summer report card, which was because I never had to attend summer school. The months of June, July and August were reserved for fun, fun and more fun, a practice I carried through my 20s, 30s and 40s and now bring into Year 50. Fun, of course, is relevant when you hit the Big Five-Oh. Beating your 16-year-old in tennis? Yes, that’s fun. Teaching your dog to swim? Doesn’t get much better than