From Diane Setterfield's The Thirteenth Tale

People disappear when they die. Their voices, their laughter, the warmth of their breath. Their flesh. Eventually their bones. All living mempry of them ceases. This is both dreadful and natural. Yet for some there is an exception to this annihilation. For in the books they write they continut to exist. We can rediscover them. Their humour, their tone of voice, their moods. Through the written word they can anger you or make you happy. They can comfort you. They can perplex you. They can alter you. All this, even though they are dead. Like flies in amber, like corpses frozen in ice, that which according to the laws of nature should pass away is, by the miracle of ink on paper, preserved. It is a kind of magic.

--Diane Setterfield



Saturday, September 15, 2007

On working out.

Crystal and I have started working out again. It's nice to get up in the mornings and start the day off right. I even have time to do my make-up well now. WooHoo, I got some compliments/second looks at work on Friday. I am taking it as a good thing.

We have also been playing volleyball at Yucatan on Friday nights. The first week I was REALLY sore, but this week I can feel where I used muscle groups more than normal but it's not bad.

I also had some super helpers teaching me the 'how' of the game. Este was my favorite teacher from last night. Thanks!

Now Scott wants the computer and i must relinquish my grip on the out-side cyber world.
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2 comments:

Yamaha Drummer said...

Howdy neighbor! you have a very interesting rant... I am starting to gain insights into the Scott and Erin equation!

September 15, 2007 at 2:01 PM
Yamaha Drummer said...

Arren, sorry for mus-spelling your name... Doh!

September 16, 2007 at 12:11 AM

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