The Mighty Matador Marching Band has come a long way since 1986. Check out the second photo under the "Saturday, September 27th" posting, at THIS website.
Lavonne
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Thanks, Lavonne!
Thanks, Lavonne, for adding the photos, profile, etc! If anyone else wants to post anything other than comments let me know and I can give you access.
(And Happy Late Birthday, Lavonne, Carol and Sandra Rosenthal!)
(And Happy Late Birthday, Lavonne, Carol and Sandra Rosenthal!)
Thursday, September 18, 2008
The Floods of the Guadalupe River
From Lavonne:
While dealing with the after effects of Hurricane Ike here in Huntsville, I’ve been thinking about the three major floods that Seguin has encountered during OUR lifetime.
I have one vivid memory of the flood of 1972. I remember sitting in our living room on South River Street, the rain coming down hard, and through the darkness, one lone police car with its flashers on, and the sound of it's officer speaking over his megaphone telling people to evacuate. I remember the sound of the warning siren coming from the fire station just a few blocks up the street. To this day, I hate that sound.
A few months after the flood of 1998, I drove through what was left of the Glen Cove Subdivision. I remember the sadness that overcame me when I couldn’t find Martha’s childhood home. It was gone. Not even a slight indication that a pool once occupied what now appeared to be nature’s success in obtaining more green space. What wasn’t gone; however were the memories of childhood sleepovers, birthday parties, girl talk around the pool, but more important the love, generosity, and thoughtfulness of Martha’s dear parents. Thank goodness for memories.
I was visiting mom when the heavy rains started in 2002, and here we were 30 years later, but the warning siren from the fire station made me feel the same fear that day as I did as a five year old.
How many of you remember the flood of 1972? How many of you were in town when Seguin was devastated in 1998 or 2002? What are your memories? Share them with us.
P.S. When was the last time you heard the “Emergency Broadcast System” advertisement either on tv or over the radio? Those advertisements don't seem to be as frequent as when we were kids.
While dealing with the after effects of Hurricane Ike here in Huntsville, I’ve been thinking about the three major floods that Seguin has encountered during OUR lifetime.
I have one vivid memory of the flood of 1972. I remember sitting in our living room on South River Street, the rain coming down hard, and through the darkness, one lone police car with its flashers on, and the sound of it's officer speaking over his megaphone telling people to evacuate. I remember the sound of the warning siren coming from the fire station just a few blocks up the street. To this day, I hate that sound.
A few months after the flood of 1998, I drove through what was left of the Glen Cove Subdivision. I remember the sadness that overcame me when I couldn’t find Martha’s childhood home. It was gone. Not even a slight indication that a pool once occupied what now appeared to be nature’s success in obtaining more green space. What wasn’t gone; however were the memories of childhood sleepovers, birthday parties, girl talk around the pool, but more important the love, generosity, and thoughtfulness of Martha’s dear parents. Thank goodness for memories.
I was visiting mom when the heavy rains started in 2002, and here we were 30 years later, but the warning siren from the fire station made me feel the same fear that day as I did as a five year old.
How many of you remember the flood of 1972? How many of you were in town when Seguin was devastated in 1998 or 2002? What are your memories? Share them with us.
P.S. When was the last time you heard the “Emergency Broadcast System” advertisement either on tv or over the radio? Those advertisements don't seem to be as frequent as when we were kids.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Sending Good Thoughts....
Sending good thoughts to our friends, family and classmates in Ike's path. Let us know you are all OK.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Back To School Night
Just walked in the door from "back to school night" for my kindergartner. Of course, it is raining and probably the darkest night in the history of dark nights. I admit, I dawdled a bit to make sure that the kids would all be sleeping before I came home.
I don' t think my parents ever attended a back to school night - I remember leaving things on my desk along with everyone else in preparation, but since I am the youngest of 5, I'm sure my parents already had a pretty good idea of what went on in school. Or maybe they were just tired.
At the time, it bothered me a little - but now, I so get it.
There is nothing like being a parent to make you understand your own a little more.
And while I have been lucky enough to make every back to school night for my two oldest, all bets are off on the 3rd one. I'm tired. I've been through the same speech by the same wonderful teacher. And though they say that those drawings hanging on the wall are from this class, they look suspiciously like the same ones from my daughter's class four years ago....
One cool thing that is different - in our schools we are seeing a heavier focus on character education - with kinders it starts simply - helping them to establish self-esteem and a positive attitude by reinforcing that each one is unique and special. I think all good teachers have always done this without it being part of a formal program - what teachers helped you to believe in yourself?
I'm going to pour a glass of wine, take these beastly shoes off, check the doors one more time, peek at the children (2 out of 3 sleeping - I should have sat through a red light), close my eyes and think about how grateful I am for those who believed in me - including my parents who never attended a back to school night....
I don' t think my parents ever attended a back to school night - I remember leaving things on my desk along with everyone else in preparation, but since I am the youngest of 5, I'm sure my parents already had a pretty good idea of what went on in school. Or maybe they were just tired.
At the time, it bothered me a little - but now, I so get it.
There is nothing like being a parent to make you understand your own a little more.
And while I have been lucky enough to make every back to school night for my two oldest, all bets are off on the 3rd one. I'm tired. I've been through the same speech by the same wonderful teacher. And though they say that those drawings hanging on the wall are from this class, they look suspiciously like the same ones from my daughter's class four years ago....
One cool thing that is different - in our schools we are seeing a heavier focus on character education - with kinders it starts simply - helping them to establish self-esteem and a positive attitude by reinforcing that each one is unique and special. I think all good teachers have always done this without it being part of a formal program - what teachers helped you to believe in yourself?
I'm going to pour a glass of wine, take these beastly shoes off, check the doors one more time, peek at the children (2 out of 3 sleeping - I should have sat through a red light), close my eyes and think about how grateful I am for those who believed in me - including my parents who never attended a back to school night....
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Just a breath away.
There is a dusty blue trunk somewhere in my garage or perhaps on a shelf in offsite storage - I am not even sure any more what is in it. I convinced my husband to bring it home some time ago so that I could go through it. I remember opening it. I remember the smell of yesterday on my hands and the feeling of grubby on my fingertips. I vaguely remember my twister beads, a picture from a college formal and papers that I had no recollection of but that were certainly treasures at one time. And I remember not finding - or maybe just not recognizing - whatever it was that compelled me to open the trunk in the first place.
Funny how the things we held most dear once can be completely forgotten. Packed away to gather dust until we are ready to remember them or throw them away.
Sometimes those SHS days feel like they were lived by someone else and I can barely remember the people, the smells (maybe that's a good thing), the way it felt.... I was talking to a former neighbor the other day. His wife passed away not too long ago. They had been married for 53 years. We stood in his yard, looking to the end of the cul de sac, where my husband was standing in the driveway. I asked him how long he had been married and he told me - and he said, "And the funny thing is, it was just a breath away."
Just a breath away.
Funny how the things we held most dear once can be completely forgotten. Packed away to gather dust until we are ready to remember them or throw them away.
Sometimes those SHS days feel like they were lived by someone else and I can barely remember the people, the smells (maybe that's a good thing), the way it felt.... I was talking to a former neighbor the other day. His wife passed away not too long ago. They had been married for 53 years. We stood in his yard, looking to the end of the cul de sac, where my husband was standing in the driveway. I asked him how long he had been married and he told me - and he said, "And the funny thing is, it was just a breath away."
Just a breath away.
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