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



Monday, November 17, 2008

Also...

Scott and I are getting a new (to us) car!

We actually already have it, but they guys are making it run, which is an important part of 'having' a car.

Cash had a Corvaire (sp?) that was gathering dust and gave it to us. The deal was that if we got the parts and got it running we could keep it. So we have. And Cash, Mike and Scott are putting it all together.

When it's running I'll use it to get back and forth to work and Scott will take Sheilah, our little red car, to do the trek to Frisco each day. This way he will be able to work close to full time at the chiropractors and, hopefully, make enough that I don't have to go back to work after Jaedyn Olivia is born!!

WOO HOO!
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1 comment:

Janika said...

I should be getting ready to go over there with Mike right now, but the computer was hissing at me.

November 18, 2008 at 5:31 AM

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