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, December 6, 2008

Craft

I created these little "Thank-You" pots for the girls who threw me a shower. I have to say I felt like a genius for coming up with it and getting it done, on time. Plus now my windowsill is cleared of all these plant cuttings. I have more cuttings than pots, but now it's manageable. And they look pretty cute if I say so myself.

I had a great shower. I got some great gifts and got some sage advice and yummy food and had a really fun time. I'll have to get the pictures from Angela sometime so I can share them.
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1 comment:

Janika said...

I had that idea when my spider plant was thriving (before it was necessary for it to go to a more loving home.)

December 10, 2008 at 1:59 PM

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