What I Did This Summer.

I hiked and biked. Not nearly as much as I wanted, but I did it. This summer was the summer of fighting against pain to do the things I wanted to do.

I visited a pool that had "adult swim time", which my mom and I agreed would be a stellar title for a dirty romance novel.

I walked to the tops of the highest hills I could find, then sat there for a while enjoying the view. I thought a lot and reassessed a lot of things, trying to decide what truly matter to me now at almost-30.

I went to the beach with my family. It wasn't the greatest vacation we've ever had. There were a lot of complications and problems I won't go into here, but there were also moments like this, watching the people I love run around in the sand, free and happy, the best versions of themselves.

I ate a lot of watermelon and a lot of late-night pizza. I drank kahlua and cream, iced coffee, and wine (not at the same time). I got tipsy with my mom over the most liquor-filled sangria I've ever had.

I watched my son ride a horse for the first time. I watched him fall in love with it. He wants to grow up and be "an engineer and a cowboy".

I made a lot of art. I painted and glued and collaged. I burned out and started up, over and over again. I battled a lot of demons with a paintbrush.

I finally opened up an online shop.

I started hoopdancing again. I felt my body remember how to do the movements, and as a result, felt more connected to myself than I have in a long time. It's nice to be capable, no matter how small the accomplishment.

I made fresh tomato soup, and homemade french fries, and granola. I picked and dried dandelion and plantain and red clover. I made sun tea and dried apple chips and eggs benedict.

I cried a lot. Living with fibromyalgia of ever-increasing severity is no joke. There are days where I am seriously in trouble and there's just not enough help to be had. So I let myself cry, and cry often. There is so much to work through when you live with chronic pain.

I sat out on my porch during thunderstorms.

I watched my son grow tall and lengthen and lose the last of his tiny-boyness, which broke my heart. I made a lot of love and had a lot of arguments. I took long drives through the trees. I woke up with the sunrise on good days and let myself sleep in on the bad ones. I read some amazing books, watched a few movies from my childhood, most notably Little Women and The Secret Garden. I despaired over being so poor, then rejoiced over the simplest things, like homemade marinara sauce, and butter on good bread. I made myself underwear (much like this), and planned more sewing projects. I took my hub on mini-dates to our favorite Thai restaurant, where we ate the yummiest pad thai, shrimp dumplings, and miso soup. I went into the woods at every given opportunity. I left my phone at home a lot. I alternated wildly between feeling horrible about myself and being immensely proud of my achievements. I felt more like a grown-up than ever, which was both terrible and wonderful.

What did you do this summer?