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
Friday, January 9, 2009
More pictures
Click HERE to see the full photo shoot at Flickr.com
It kills me that I still haven't gotten to hold her. She is beautiful. Don't forget to call the lactation counselor if you have any problems (or want someone to invade your space and squish your mammys when you would rather be sleeping.)
3 comments:
Congrats to you guys!! She is so tiny and precious...best of luck with the sleep.
It kills me that I still haven't gotten to hold her. She is beautiful. Don't forget to call the lactation counselor if you have any problems (or want someone to invade your space and squish your mammys when you would rather be sleeping.)
Thanks ladies!
janika you'll just have to come out and grab an opportunity to hold her.
We're blessing her next week. How about then?
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