No Regrets

Today was a day I meant to get chores and grading done . . . but I cannot resist the lure of volleyball. We played despite the occasionally chilly wind whipping across the park. It was so windy in fact that as we set up the net all the guys were making sailing jokes, saying things like, "Hard about to starboard . . . " or "Let's see, we should be there in about 45 minutes. . ." (holding up a finger to the wind) as the net puffed out like a checkerboard sail.

We had a good turnout, enough to play six on six for most of the afternoon. Some of the people come with their kids, who play together on the sidelines, watched over by whatever adults are not playing volleyball at that moment. As it got colder, the kids were piling on outlandishly oversized extra layers, whatever the adults had left lying around. K., a feisty and beautiful seven-year-old, was outfitted in a man's huge black sweatshirt, which came to below her knees, running around with her arms out. When her dad grabbed her up and picked her up, I said, "Look, [K.'s dad] is hugging a bat!" Then I remembered how I used to write about K. on this blog when she was only three (I'm too lazy to link but if you scroll back about four years you'll find her chasing after bubbles and warning me not to scare them). That made me think about how this volleyball group has been a kind of family for me and how there are now more and more kids (K. has a three-year-old sister, for one) and it's fun to watch them grow up and to be all together. So I was happy to be out today with my friends in the early fall, one more volleyball day before the cold weather closes in.