Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
-- Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
Slim in pillows
Saturday, April 30, 2011
READY FOR THE OKLAHOMA LAND RUN
Here is Hope, our youngest grandchild, ready for 89ers Day at school. Her mama made her dress and bonnet. Thank goodness my mother taught my daughter to sew, because I sure didn't.