almost there

Extremely tired.

Work today was a great relief: we had to give a report to our team leader on the current release position, and make sure things were in order: and they were, and she was not only satisfied but positively pleased.

So that was a great relief. There are just a number of things that had to be done today and will have to be done tomorrow, before I head home on Christmas Eve to family and am away for a week or so. I can't wait.

Spent most of the evening sewing a second Christmas stocking and finishing the first. Would have spent even more time on it, but common sense kicked in partway through the hand-sewing bit to point out that I could perfectly well do some of this on the train on Friday, given that I have five or six hours of train travel to look forward to. Thank you, common sense.

I also have a new pair of boots. They are good boots, but I will not wear them till after Christmas, because they are to be a Christmas present to me.

I think my brain may be going at the edges a bit.

Must be up uncomfortably early tomorrow in order to pick up a parcel from the post office. Would rather leave the redelivery of said parcel to the weekend, and would normally do so, but for probably fairly obvious reasons, this is not an option this weekend. Fingers crossed that the pavements will not be too icy/frosty/whatever tomorrow morning.

---

An Astrologer's Song

To the Heavens above us
O look and behold
The Planets that love us
All harnessed in gold!
What chariots, what horses
Against us shall bide
While the Stars in their courses
Do fight on our side?

All thought, all desires,
That are under the sun,
Are one with their fires,
As we also are one:
All matter, all spirit,
All fashion, all frame,
Receive and inherit
Their strength from the same.

(Oh, man that deniest
All power save thine own,
Their power in the highest
Is mightily shown.
Not less in the lowest
That power is made clear.
Oh, man, if thou knowest,
What treasure is here!)

Earth quakes in her throes
And we wonder for why!
But the blind planet knows
When her ruler is nigh;
And, attuned since Creation
To perfect accord,
She thrills in her station
And yearns to her Lord.

The waters have risen,
The springs are unbound —
The floods break their prison,
And ravin around.
No rampart withstands 'em,
Their fury will last,
Till the Sign that commands 'em
Sinks low or swings past.

Through abysses unproven
And gulfs beyond thought,
Our portion is woven,
Our burden is brought.
Yet They that prepare it,
Whose Nature we share,
Make us who must bear it
Well able to bear.

Though terrors o'ertake us
We'll not be afraid.
No power can unmake us
Save that which has made.
Nor yet beyond reason
Or hope shall we fall —
All things have their season,
And Mercy crowns all!

Then, doubt not, ye fearful —
The Eternal is King —
Up, heart, and be cheerful,
And lustily sing: —
What chariots, what horses
Against us shall bide
While the Stars in their courses
Do fight on our side?

-- Kipling