Homecoming
the girl
Game Night
We're nearing the end. The Girl's volleyball has been a constant in our lives for years now. The Girl and volleyball -- we can't imagine one without the other. Two years of middle school volleyball followed by four years of high school volleyball with club volleyball each of those years: it's all coming to an end in just a couple of weeks.
So often, we don't see the end coming. We don't know when we're in the midst of some last or another. The last time we see this person. The last time we visit this place. The last time we watch someone do something they love. This last, though, is approaching with unrelenting certainty.
I revel in nostalgia. I wallow in it at times. These last few days, I've been looking for pictures to send to our volleyball coach for the upcoming senior night, and I've found pictures throughout L's volleyball career, one from the very beginning:
She was the Boy's age in this picture, perhaps a little younger. She was just learning, and an overhand serve was the stuff of dreams. An overhand jump serve (as if you'd do an underhand jump serve) was something she couldn't even imagine. Now she does the easily (when the coach leaves her in rotate on the back line to serve, which is admittedly rare these days).
And in a few more games, it will all be over. She's not going to be playing volleyball college (at last not for the college team -- she'll likely get involved in intermural sports). So we enjoy each game in a way we probably never have.
Greenville Game
One thing that rarely happens to me at L's volleyball game is meeting former students. The two high schools that most of my eighth-grade kids attend are not 5A schools like Mauldin High, so we never play them. This year, however, Greenville High (where probably 45% of my students end up attending) ranked up to 5A, so we now face them a few times a year. The first time was at a weekend tournament that I was unable to attend. The second time was at Mauldin, but I was shuttling the Boy here and there. So tonight, we all went to Greenville High for the final game between these two schools.
There were lots of familiar faces. First and most significantly was E, who was in my English I class four years ago and on L's travel volleyball team (along with H, another of my students). At weekend tournaments I would sometimes see E and H huddled together, papers spread about, talking to each other.
"What are you girls doing?"
They would both look up at me with mock anger: "Studying for your test, Mr. Scott!"
But E wasn't the only former student I saw. In total, I'd guess about eleven or twelve kids came up to me to let me know how things are going in high school.
"Guess what, Mr Scott? I have a 98 in English 2!" J, a student from last year, boasted with a smile.
"Do you have all As?" I asked C, who is now a junior.
"Of course!" came the laughing reply.
The game itself was a grueling, five-set slog. Our girls won the first set 25-13, which got them a little too confident. Greenville jumped out to a lead in the second set, and at one point it was 13-19. Our girls didn't give up, though, and fought back to make it 16-19 before falling apart and losing the set 17-26. The third set went to Mauldin, but just barely: at one point, our girls were down 4-9, but they battled back and won 25-22, going up two sets to one. Of course, Greenville tied it at two sets each with a 19-25 fourth-set victory. Mauldin jumped out to an early lead in the deciding fifth set, going up 5-2 then quickly adding two more to make it 7-2. But as our girls like to do, they gave most of it back and were only up by one, 7-6. Ultimately, they kept a lead, increased it a bit, and won the final set 15-12.
Tuesday After the Storm
Our street has been blocked since Friday morning when Helene took down the tree I'd expected to fall for at least five years.
"When are they going to take care of that?" L asked. "When are they going to get rid of that tree," E asked. The answer was simple, like so many things in Helene's wake: "I don't know."
We kept reminding them about fortunate we are: we had power back the same day we lost it. We never lost water. We have a home that "flooded" with about two inches of water at most, and in the basement, where we'd already prepared for just that much flooding.
Today, though, the linesmen began working in our neighborhood. They took care of the broken power pole behind our house and cleared the tree blocking our road (though that was the city's work, I guess).
And we decided it was time to do some exploring. We headed back along the creek that we've always called our adventuring area. There was a waterfall there that spilled over some rocks and enormous roots of two trees that towered over everything.
Those two trees, however, were casualties of Helene. Minor casualties, to be sure: they were tall enough to take out a bit of fencing in a backyard on our street, but that's nothing compared to the death toll that's in the Carolinas.
Heading back home, we noticed another change: without the enormous tree that was hanging over our street (and the blocking our street), our street looks a lot different.
It's not the only thing in the south that looks different thanks to Helene.
Portrait
Old Friends, Old Teammates
They've known each other for years. They've played together on at least three different teams. During high school season, they've played against each other for four years.
Two years ago, when he Mauldin girls took state, L's team beat S's and E's team in straight sets.
Tonight, the roles were reversed. Woodmont is a regional powerhouse this year just like Mauldin was two years ago.
But no matter who wins, the after-game picture is always the same.
Home Game
It was a tough loss: the girls were up 15-7 in the first set only to lose 22-25. It's tough to lose after having such a lead, and it's tough to go back out for a second set. But they did. And the struggles continued, and the frustrated girls took another one on the chin: 21-25.
Then came the third set. They jumped out to a quick lead just like the first set, but this time, instead of losing it, they increased it, taking the third set 25-14. "See? That's what we're capable of," they seemed to be saying.
Then came the fourth set, which the lost 16-25. It's these ups and downs, these moments of brilliance followed by moments of -- what? -- that are so frustrating for this year's team. They know what they're capable of: they're just not managing to maintain it consistently.
Yet through it all, there's our L, always the upbeat cheerleader of the team, always celebrating even the smallest victory, always cheering up the team when they're down, always believing in her team.
Soup
Polish cuisine, in my experience, is centered around soups. I'm not a culinary expert or anything of the kind, so this is undoubtedly my personal preference coming to the fore: what has always caught my eye (and my tastebuds) in Polish cooking has been the soups.
Barszcz z uszkami is a treat beyond treats: we only have it once a year because the uszki are so time-consuming. It's one of E's favorites.
Żurek is such an odd-ball dish for Americans: soup made from a base of fermented rye flour? How weird. And how utterly delicious. It's one of L's favorites.
Ogorkowa? Pickle soup? "Get out!" was my first reaction. Who the hell makes soup out of pickles?! It's absolutely perfect.
K likes most Polish soups, but she probably agrees with L and E that a simple rosół is the best. Babcia always makes it for us as our first dish in Poland, and a gentle, easy broth like that is the perfect thing after traveling.
And then there are the other: koperkowa, chłodnik, kapuśniak -- the classics. But there are a couple of soups that stand above them all for me: flaczki (not because I love it so much -- I do, but it's not a favorite -- but because I only get it in Poland: K absolutely is not a fan) and my hands-down favorite, kwaśnica. Not so much a Polish soup as a regional highlander soup.
We usually stick to soups in the winter and give them a break in the summer: having the stove on that long really warms up the house, and we want lighter meals in the summer. Except for rosół and koperkowa (none of us is really a chłodnik fan), the soups disappear.
Until the Girl asks K to fix that one soup -- you know, with the potatoes and bacon bits.
And so we had for dinner a soup I have always thought of as a winter soup.
"We should do kwaśnica," I will say some time in October or November.
"No, it's not cold enough yet," comes the reply.
But all our Girl has to do is ask for kwaśnica, and it can be 90 degrees outside, and K will not hesitate.
Volleyball
The volleyball season hasn't officially started yet: we still haven't had any regional games, but we've been in a few tournaments. Tonight was our first home game. Our girls had a tough time of it the first two sets, losing by quite a margin due to silly errors. They pulled it together for the third set, but ended up losing it 23-25.
What impressed me about the Girl -- other than a couple of monster hits she had -- was how little she's changed regarding volleyball. She's always been the most enthusiastic cheerleader on her team. No matter how the game is going, she's always up, always positive, always cheering and encouraging her teammates.
Everyone notices it; many have commented on it. More than her playing ability, I so admire that positivity.
Photo Session
