the girl

Last Sunday of the Month

The last Sunday of the month means only one thing: Polish Mass. Of course, it’s only been Polish Mass in name and spirit for several years now. The local parish priest conducts the Mass, and he’s from Columbia. He’s learned a little Polish for the Mass itself, but otherwise, he’s a complete non-Polish-speaker. The “Polish Mass” part comes from the community that gathers.

This week, though, there was a little something different: the new parish center, complete with gymnasium, is now open. Several families headed over after Mass to try it out.

Arrival in Knoxville

We made it to Knoxville for the next tournament. Two weekends in a row — that would be exhausting if K and I didn’t split the duty.

On the way here, L and I played music for each other: she selected one song, then I selected the next. I think we were both trying to find something the other liked. I liked a few of her songs; she “mehed” most of mine.

“I’m into alternative and indie stuff,” she said. And then very little of what she played sounded like what I would have considered “alternative and indie.” That was one of my staple genres growing up, so I played some R.E.M. for her. They are the godfathers of alternative. “Meh.”

At one point, she claimed I didn’t choose my song quickly enough and so that meant she got two songs in a row.

“That’s fine,” I said.

My next song: Genesis’s “The Musical Box,” which clocks in at just over ten minutes.

She was shocked and aghast.

“Next I’ll go with Pink Floyd’s ‘Dogs,'” I suggested, “which is 17 minutes long. After that perhaps Genesis’s ‘Supper’s Reader,’ which is 24 minutes long, and then maybe ‘Echoes’ by the Floyd again, which is 23 minutes long. We’ll end it with Jethro Tull’s ‘Thick as a Brick,’ which is a full album — one song, 44 minutes.” She was horrified.

Darts and Games

I’ve neglected photos for almost a month now — almost nothing new added to the Lightroom catalog.

I’ve been taking pictures — a few of them.

They’ve just been sitting on the memory card in the camera.

Plus, I’ve been writing and thinking about politics and religion…

 

Play Date

The Girl has, for all intents and purposes, outgrown play dates. Her friends come over occasionally, and they sit on the bed and talk. Or play games on the Chromebook together. But they’re not play dates. But we call them that anyway.

L’s best friend N came over yesterday and one of the highlights for them was walking together down to the CVS near us to buy snacks. K told me that after L told her friends about doing that, all her friends want to come for a visit to walk down to the CVS.

What a change from the summer L experienced in Poland a couple of years ago. She met with her newly-made village friends for pizza, went shopping with them, met them for ice cream, walked to their houses for visits. So much independence for a then-twelve-year-old. So relatively incomprehensible for American children.

Southern Classic, Day 2

At their age and ability level, the Girl and her teammates can go from one extreme to another. For example, they can lose the first set 25-16 and then turn around and win the next set 25-16.

They can make a brilliant play and follow it up by letting the ball flop slowly and gently in between three players as they all look at it, each on expecting someone else to get it, each one making a move for it and then backing off, each one remaining perfectly silent.

The Girl can hit serves that float over the net gently and then power rockets over the net. Then she can miss her timing and the serve doesn’t even make it to the net.

Today, they got third place in the silver division. That means, roughly, they finished seventh place overall, I think.

Not horrible but not what they wanted. Still, they were all in a good mood at the end of the tournament, which is what counts.

Dalton 2021 Day 1

It’s a different tournament this year. There are fewer courts this year: five instead of eight. This means fewer teams in the building, so fewer players, fewer parents — reduced risk, in short.

They won their first two games in straight sets. They didn’t have much problem with either team.

As often happens, though, the third team was a different story. Our girls (and single boy — long story) lost the first set something like 25-22. Not a devastating loss, but a loss nonetheless.

They started the second set strong and before we knew it, our team was up 19-12. “Surely this is a done deal.” Nope. They ended up losing 26-24, which means in the second half of the game, they were consistently outscored 2-1.

It’s a question of experience, of gelling together as a team. It’s only their second tournament, and many of the points they lost were from silly, unforced errors. They’ll weed those out with time, with some experience.

And the Boy got his soccer uniform for the spring season.

Saturday Hike

When the Girl hears that we’re thinking about a family hike, the reaction is seldom positive. When we’re on the hike, there can be a bit of complaining, a bit of whining, a bit of “I’m sooo tired”-ing. We get it: hiking is not her thing. But it’s K’s thing — by far her favorite outdoor activity. And I love it, too. Probably not as much as K, but I love K, so I love it more than I probably would without her.

But when her oldest friend asks her if she wants to go on a hike with him and his family, the boots come back looking like this, and there’s only positive words about the hike.

I guess we need to invite him along for our next family hike.

Reflections on a Family Evening Out

“Tomorrow we go back to normal.” It was a thought in everyone’s mind. Of course, this covid-normal is far from normal, but it has become our new normal: masks, plexiglass, and social distancing while at school. We decided, though, to have one last little hoorah and went to Barnes and Noble for a little shopping. The Boy got a book about Stan Lee comics, in part how to draw them, in part how to conceptualize comics. The latter is a little advanced for him, but he’ll grow into it. The Girl got the newest addition to a couple of series she’s been reading. I thought about getting Bob Woodward’s Rage since it was half-price in hardback, but I’m ready to be done with Trump entirely, so I just let that go.

Afterward, we went to a shoe store for the Boy to get his first pair of Vans. He explained he’d wanted them forever — “My dream shoes!” — but I don’t recall him ever mentioning them. Still, he had the money from Christmas, and we let him choose how to spend it. I wouldn’t have imagined spending my gift money for shoes at his age, but he’s his own person.

On our way out of the shopping center, a young woman stood in the median with a sign proclaiming that she was homeless. I gave her five dollars as we passed her, but I haven’t stopped thinking about her that much since then. She looked to be in her mid-twenties at most, and she appeared relatively healthy, but her shoes, tattered and filthy, told a different story. All evening, on and off, my thoughts returned to her. If she was as young as I conjectured, she’s only about a decade older than L. What would I want for L if she were in such a situation? Obviously and simply, I’d want her to call us and ask for help before she ever got to that situation. Did that young lady have no one to turn to? Was she living in a car she’d parked in one of the vast parking lots of the shopping center? And, of course, there’s the common refrain: was she faking it?

A lot of people don’t give money to beggars because they feel they’ll just waste it. “He’ll just use it to buy booze.” “She’ll just use it to buy drugs.” It’s as if they don’t want to be taken for suckers, to be seen (or to see themselves) as gullible. We’d just spent a fair amount on books, shoes, and volleyball equipment (while the Boy was buying shoes): the five dollars I gave her will not make a dent in our budget. I’d rather be generous but gullible.

First Tournament 2021

The girls won the first four, lost the last.

A good start. They’re not too humbled and yet their egos got a little check.

2020

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February

March

April

May

June

July

August

September

October

November

December

Beaufort Day 5

The Boy finally found his shark teeth. We went back to the beach famed for its shark teeth and within seconds, he’d found his first. It wasn’t his last.

“Once I found one, I was in my prime!” he declared shortly before asking, “Daddy, what does it mean to be ‘in my prime’?”

Photo by K on her iPhone

“I love when you use words you don’t really know!” I laughed.

“What?! It was on Cupcake and Dino. I’m just not sure what it means.”

I explained. It pleased him that he’d used it correctly.

Photo by K on her iPhone