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Tiling Lessons Learned From Volleyball

Lessons I Learned From Playing Volleyball

The Volleyball Parable

When I was in my 30’s, I lived in a community where there were 3 different women’s volleyball leagues within a mile of my house. They were categorized as upper, middle and lower division. I’m a pickup volleyball player at best who never even played in high school outside of Physical Education class. I played basketball and thought maybe at my age I should try an “easier sport” so I figured volleyball would fit that bill. I tend to be competitive by nature so the thought of joining the “lower” division seemed out of the question. I assumed that would be the league were goof-off inexperienced players would be. I decided in my head that I needed to, at the very least, be in the middle division but I thought maybe I should be in the upper division. I met a new friend at the park who was looking for an alternate player for one game. She played in the middle division. I jumped at the chance.

When I got to the event center that night ready to play, the team captain, who happened to be my husband’s boss, asked me if I was a setter or a hitter. This was the first clue I might be out of my league. I didn’t know what the difference was. Let’s just say, the entire evening I made an entire fool of myself. I was the only person on the court that night that served underhand and don’t even get me started on my skill level. I would jump up at the net as if to block a shot, but the reality was, I had no idea what I was doing. The idea of volleyball being an easy sport was quickly thrown out the window.

For the next year, I spent every spare minute learning the game of volleyball. I learned what a hitter was, a setter, a libero and every other volleyball term. I recorded every volleyball game that came on television. I would watch it meticulously trying to learn who was moving where and why. Even going to the local high school and college games as often as I could but the bottom line was, there was no way to really become a volleyball player without some coaching and practice. I remembered back when we were warming up the night of my "first" volleyball game, someone asked me if I would like to pepper with her. I needed to learn what it meant to pepper. No volleyball game I watched told me what that was. As it turns out, that is a term used during practice. That’s exactly what I needed. I needed practice. After all, practice makes permanent. 

FYI the definition: To pepper, two players face each other separated by a distance of 5–20 feet (2–6 meters). Distances vary based upon the players' preference. Player 2 starts by hitting or tossing a volleyball to player 1. Player 1 then passes the ball back to player 2 starting the drill.

I finally realized if I wanted to be a volleyball player, I needed to find someone who knew the game to teach me and to practice with me. I got a group of ladies together to make up a practice team. I knew I needed to learn things that couldn’t be taught just by watching. We practiced daily for a couple months and these sweet ladies taught me the basics. We got ourselves a sponsor and some matching t-shirts and joined the league, in the lower division.

This group of 8 thirty something ladies, who had not previously been in the volleyball league, were essentially out of our league. Even though every person on my team, other than myself of course, had played in high school, we were all out of practice. The big parable for me was, just because you watch the game of volleyball, or even played the game at some point in your life, does not translate into being good at the sport 15 years later. It took a lot of practice, and years of playing together before our little team worked our way to the top of the lower division. We even ended up taking lower division grand champions.

Eventually some of the other lower division teams started complaining that we were unfairly in that division and needed to move up to the middle division. Now that was a huge accomplishment. 

Even though we had come a long way, I personally never made it to the level of my dreams. I never got the skill to jump up in the air, smack the ball as hard as I could to spike it down on the opposing team, perfectly in the back corner of the court. It would take far more practice and learning to ever get to that point, and let’s face it, a community league volleyball team is not worth that sort of effort. At least not for me. So, let’s transition the volleyball story over to another similar situation I find myself in today. It’s a tiling project I took on in the same manner I did the first volleyball game.

My Dream of being a great "Spiker" was never realized!

What does this have to do with tile?  Well...

The only way to understand the predicament I find myself in right now you need to have a little background. About 6 months ago, I was in the Habitat Restore looking for a couple odds and ends. I love doing little fixer upper projects around the house. D.I.Y. shows and videos are an obsession, but my personal skill level is mostly in the painting area. I have painted things that probably shouldn’t be painted, like linoleum, mirrors, counter-tops just to name a few. Huge goals include turning trash into treasures. Confidence builders came along the way like when I took a torn, worn-out leather sofa, stitched it up and threw some stain on it. I remember thinking to myself, if this doesn’t work it’s off to the dump. Surprisingly it turned out, good as new. I guess I was building up my “Do It Yourself” confidence over time.

Jump forward to me walking through the Habitat building supply store looking for my next project when I saw a huge area of brand-new tile. It had a sign on it, “NOT FOR SALE.” I have picked up lots of building supplies over the years for little projects, but they have always been leftover shingles, or an odd sheet of siding I would turn into a shelf or fix a bookcase or something rather small. I even built a shed in the backyard from leftover building supplies from this store, but I never came across enough building supplies to do an entire construction job. Yet here at this second-hand store was brand-new tile. There was so much for sell I could tile an entire showroom floor. I found out it was not for sale because it had not been put into the system yet. They told me it would be for sale the next day.

I rushed back first thing in the morning. All night I could hardly sleep. The thought of getting beautiful, large format grey tile for a steal consumed me. I was in love. I helped my sister cut some tile about 20 years earlier, so in my mind, I was practically a professional. Even though my bathroom floor is still looking awesome with my painted linoleum, let’s face it, tile would be a huge upgrade. Maybe this would be my chance. Let’s just make a long story short. When the tile went on sale, it was such a good price, that I ended up buying and entire pallet full. I lined up a moving company to pick it up and deliver it to my house.

It’s been sitting in my garage for 6 months while I watched one video after the other online to teach me how to tile. I would freeze the television on every frame that had tile being set and analyze exactly what products were being used and how it was done. Watching youtube tiling videos became an obsession. “Remember my volleyball obsession?” It was the same thing. Once again, I tried to do something without practicing before the big game!

In my mind, just like the volleyball game, I thought I was better than I was. I decided not to start with the bathroom after all. I had so much tile, I would go for it and take on my large family room. As it turns out, being a first-time tiler, and starting with large format tile, was the equivalent of joining a volleyball team that was out of my league. Having no set skills to fall back on makes it a huge undertaking. My estimate of how long it would take to lay the tile was 3 days. It turns out I only average between 20 and 30 tiles a day. I have been working for a solid week and I still have around 40-50 tiles to go just to finish one room. It took a week to get the floor prepped for tile, that’s another story, and don’t even get me started on the grouting. At this point, my body aches all over, my wrists are swollen, and my skin is having a reaction to the tiling mud. This morning, before I can even start tiling, I need to let some Tylenol kick in. 

Here I am with a smile on my face
Because I am only just starting
I have no idea what I'm in for...

After working a week

Still not done

Usually, when working on home improvements, I love the process almost as much as the finished product, but I have to say, when it comes to tiling, it’s not my favorite. I just keep going, slowly, saying in my head, over and over again, “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can. Oh, I can’t wait until I can say, I knew I could. Oh, I hope I get to that point!

Wish me luck!

Enough said, time to get back to work!

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Notice how they keep their noses out of the water as it freezes.

Made you look.  Did you catch the ok sign?

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Help

If you can understand this note, thank a music teacher.

Eye Spy Secret Service Agents

I spy, with my little eye, undercover secret service agents.

Yesterday, I picked my son Grant up from school early because he had a doctor’s appointment. As I was driving to the school, I noticed a few odd things along the way, like a broken down car, as well as two snow plow trucks stopped on the side of Highway 370. 

Seeing two snow plow trucks on the side of the road when we were having a heat wave of 45 degrees sends out red flags, are we about to get hit with a storm?

When I saw the old car, I thought of pulling over to see if they needed any help but since it was a man all by himself I decided against it. You can never be too safe. Then when I saw the two snow plows it made my mind race. I was thinking, is there a storm coming through that I don’t know about? That seems odd, since it was 45 degrees outside and not a cloud in the sky. About 20 minutes later I picked Grant up and headed back down Highway 370 toward Bellevue Hospital, once again passing the snow plows and broken down car. We also noticed there were police cars everywhere. When I pulled into the hospital, there were three additional cops standing outside their cars waiting for something. That’s when it hit me. President Obama is in town and this was security for him. I asked Grant if he thought maybe those snow plow drivers were actually undercover secret service agents. 

While Grant was getting a cast, Obama was driving by.

While the doctor was putting a cast on Grant, I got a text from the school saying, “President Obama is visiting a PLHS teacher in Papillion and many roads are closed and traffic is congested. Please be patient as you pick up your children.” 

When we were leaving the hospital, Highway 370 was completely closed. We drove the back roads, to the school to pick up Nathan. As we were driving we were very alert to the possibility of seeing undercover secret service agents. We noticed construction workers standing next to large trucks sort of kicking clods around, and our best catch of the day was an old Ford truck driving directly in front of us on a dirt road. All of the sudden it pulled off to the side of the road and stopped. As we were driving by we saw the man, in a flannel shirt, talking into his “sleeve”.

As soon as we saw Air Force One in the sky, Highway 370 was re-opened.

Immediately following this incident we saw “Air force One” take off in the sky. The eagle has left the building was the only thing we could say. Immediately after we saw the plane in the sky, highway 370 was reopened.

The moral of the story is: we had the best day ever playing Eye Spy.

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I Before E Except