the joy of teamwork
Mar. 19th, 2012 11:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
incandescensWe have a work awayday tomorrow (not that we're going far - just to a different building), and I must be bright and alert and definitely not drowsy. Therefore I must go to sleep at a reasonable hour tonight.
(Bah.)
(I could live without work awaydays, but alas, nobody asks me.)
(Or at least, nobody whom I could reasonably say no to and get any result. Commiseration between the others on the team is understood but will not get us off the awayday.)
Oh, and I handed over the dinosaur quilt to the coworker whose greatnephew it was for. She was extremely pleased. So that's good. And the money she paid me is probably going to get ploughed right back into craft supplies, or put towards expenditure for my Prague trip. Which is also good.
---
Encounter
We were riding through frozen fields in a wagon at dawn.
A red wing rose in the darkness.
And suddenly a hare ran across the road.
One of us pointed to it with his hand.
That was long ago. Today neither of them is alive,
Not the hare, nor the man who made the gesture.
O my love, where are they, where are they going
The flash of a hand, streak of movement, rustle of pebbles.
I ask not out of sorrow, but in wonder.
-- Czeslaw Milosz, translated by Czeslaw Milosz and Lillian Vallee
(Bah.)
(I could live without work awaydays, but alas, nobody asks me.)
(Or at least, nobody whom I could reasonably say no to and get any result. Commiseration between the others on the team is understood but will not get us off the awayday.)
Oh, and I handed over the dinosaur quilt to the coworker whose greatnephew it was for. She was extremely pleased. So that's good. And the money she paid me is probably going to get ploughed right back into craft supplies, or put towards expenditure for my Prague trip. Which is also good.
---
Encounter
We were riding through frozen fields in a wagon at dawn.
A red wing rose in the darkness.
And suddenly a hare ran across the road.
One of us pointed to it with his hand.
That was long ago. Today neither of them is alive,
Not the hare, nor the man who made the gesture.
O my love, where are they, where are they going
The flash of a hand, streak of movement, rustle of pebbles.
I ask not out of sorrow, but in wonder.
-- Czeslaw Milosz, translated by Czeslaw Milosz and Lillian Vallee
no subject
Date: 2012-03-19 11:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-20 09:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-20 05:07 pm (UTC)...I do not expect you to make these, but I thought you would appreciate knowing they exist.
no subject
Date: 2012-03-20 10:39 pm (UTC)