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



Friday, March 26, 2010

Ana, I wanna build like you...

I want to make this headboard for our bed. Ana from Knock Off Wood has the plans and supplies list and everything! It looks so easy. I can do it. I just don't have the space. It was different when there was no baby who might get crushed or poisoned or something, but now I don't feel comfortable doing building in the living room.
Anyone have a garage I can borrow and a truck I can use for transport?
Then I'd like to build this and this. I need them, I think.
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