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To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, 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, Signifying nothing.
About Me
- Gretchen
- I'm a SAHM just trying to live life with a smile on my face and laughter in my heart
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January
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- Wordless Wednesday
- Not much going on. Just hanging in there. That's a...
- Pictures
- 2006
- 2005
- 2004
- HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BABY BOY
- More Idol?
- This came in an e-mail I recieved today. WBTV is a...
- My update.
- How many of you?
- Goodness
- More pictures
- Some pictures
- Hola~ a bit of randomness
- I got this in my e-mail today. Thought it was grea...
- School has started
- Well what a day
- Please pray
- Welcome New Year
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January
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