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



Sunday, November 9, 2008

Happy holiday pictures...

I woke up after having a weird dream that involved having our picture taken and decided we should do a little photo shoot. So with the help of some household appliances (read the shower curtain and heat lamps from Scott's tools) I set up a studio this morning and we took pictures. They are FAR from perfect, but it was fun. ... and ... we can pass them off as our Holiday family picture thing.


And one from Halloween...


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2 comments:

Bertie said...

I love them! I think they are perfect- and that little bean will be here before you know it:)

November 10, 2008 at 2:56 PM
Janika said...

What a great family photo.

November 12, 2008 at 10:36 AM

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