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
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
what's going on
My baby is looking cute as ever... we celebrated Jules and Manuel's wedding the cousins got together. and I have been turning this into this. and planting seeds... I hope they sprout...
Et tu with the garden? Fabulous my dear. I spent the day going through my baby clothes. I was trying to decide who to give them to. Hope you have extra room in your luggage:)
Oh the garden! It's actually James' house. He said I could do anything I wanted with the yard, so my first project was to pull weeds. Next up (in no particular order) get rid of moss in grass, more weeding, create trail around house, prune prune, prune!, etc
2 comments:
Et tu with the garden? Fabulous my dear. I spent the day going through my baby clothes. I was trying to decide who to give them to. Hope you have extra room in your luggage:)
Oh the garden! It's actually James' house. He said I could do anything I wanted with the yard, so my first project was to pull weeds.
Next up (in no particular order)
get rid of moss in grass, more weeding, create trail around house, prune prune, prune!, etc
Post a Comment