Her list of summer activities outshines mine (I can timidly claim reading a couple of books, getting hooked on the TV series Sherlock Holmes and Game of Thrones, occasional handwritten letters, increasingly rare walks, flower appreciation, snacking at odd hours).
Kai has learned to cut and prefers to do it alone, plays catch ball with her elders, swims with abandon in a small sea of balls, gives her water toys a full bath and squeeze until sneezing point from exposure to the cold, snaps "dragons" in the garden, indulges in pretend play with her stuffed toys, joins the doggy walk morning and afternoon, sings "Letting Go" from Frozen full throttle, watches four Hoopla Kids videos on YouTube (strictly rationed, same for TV hours unlike her Booboo). Daily summer phonics class is now part of her routine.
I can add to my list the photo documentation of her summer. I still dream of going to the beach, of feeling sand under my feet or even swimming in a warm pool before monsoon season arrives. My travel is limited to Pinterest sites of dream getaways and the TLC channel.
Meanwhile, our "staycation" is going splendidly, and we feel blessed each time the sun is out. I've grown to accept that this is as good as it gets.