State of the fox. I've been effectively isolated/quarantined/hermited
for two weeks. Haven't seen a friend in that time, and maybe exchanged words
with less than 10 people face2face. I don't recall ever being 'alone' for
this long. Even when I was homebound with Stan the Flesh-eating Bacteria,
I saw people at least a couple times a week. I'm not the most social person,
but I'm more than a little twitchy. I'm glad Dunwich Abbey is fairly
large, I can pace better.
Work is still frustrating, not going into details because I'd start full
bore ranting right quick. *looks back* Oh yeah, they started the office
closing the Monday after, and that week was crazy with WFH folks getting
things set up. I'm special, I was already working from home, and I'm
getting a note from Carcosa Corp saying I'm that special kind of employee
who can travel to work sites during all this. I'm always so lucky *wink*
Personal/health foo is about as you'd expect. My allergies constantly
twig me out til I remind myself that the only thing different than
any other season is there's a crazy virus out there. Stupid cough.
Mental health is all over the place. Not much focus, easily anxious,
had my first full on panic attack...some days ago, can't remember exactly
when to be honest. Yeah, that's disconcerting. I've been able to get
out of bed, get a shower, eat every day...so my depression isn't as high
as it can be. Sleep is mixed, not a lot of anxiety dreams thank Tsathoggua.
I'm not reading a lot, though I'm listening to a bunch of audiobook/podcast
stuff. I'm probably a little too hooked on the internet during this mess.
But, when I try to ignore it, well...see the above about anxiety. So I
don't really know what I'm going to do.
So yeah, that's about it. I should do work around Dunwich Abbey, but
I have little energy most days. We'll see. At least I'm mostly
keeping up around the house. We'll see what happens.
Tomorrow will be my second calendar month here in Dunwich Abbey. It's also
the middle of the Covid-19 virus outbreak. Not, as I've been typing,
'Corvid'. It's not a crow. So far I'm fine, I'm low risk, even with
the diabetes and high blood pressure. I'm not being stupid though. And I have
plenty of toilet paper, I bought a bulk pack when I moved in, and well...
I live alone, so I have plenty.
Carcosa Corp is all kinds of busy, projects and migrations and everyone is
twitchy. There's no official word about office closings and whatnot, but
I've been mostly working from home anyway. So we'll see what happens.
Personal foo? Been slowly working on getting Dunwich Abbey setup. Not as
fast as I'd like, but I've been pretty lacking in tentacles post work, and
I spend most of the weekend trying to recover. I've managed to get the
study to be pretty comfortable, and the bedroom is coming together. The
living room is still a bunch of boxes and stuff. I need to get more
bookshelves so I can start organizing books better, but that's going to
wait life to settle down again, vs having random folks over here in case
of plague. Plus the next weekend or two will be busy with work foo. I'll
get around to it sooner or later.
Ok, I'm out of stuff to talk about, and I'm bloody exhausted. Night folks
who read this.
All praise to thee, Tsathoggua, dark lord of darksome realms! Before thine ebon throne lost wraiths bewail their fate with many an echoing groan and wander sightless through the frightful glooms of sub-Eiglophian caves. Thou didst reward their unrepented insolence displayed before thy toadlike templed eidolons, with monstrous dooms. From them thy vengeance was not stayed, nor shall their horrid punishments abate ‘till all the peaks of high Voormithadreth are ground to grit in icy eschatons.
Oh lord of foulsome life and fearsome death, to thee our fealty repays our gift of necromantic arts with offerings of red and pulsing hearts given in thanks on thine ensanguined alter; and, to avenge all crass impiety, our serpent-venomed dirks will never falter.
Now hear our plea, O Lord of black encaverned spaces, whose jet-dark orbs, though night-enmired yet see into all secret subterranean places, and whose black-furred bat-supple ears detect the faintest sound of all who plot in chambers underground: Fulfill our hopes allay our direst fears. Grant us the gift of swift nocturnal stealth: Reveal to us each hidden jeweled hoard of kingly wealth; and most of all Dark Lord, possess our foes with terrors thanatopic and draw their shrieking souls down from the light into eternal night to pine for aye in silence nyctalopic.
From the Book of Eibon, Psalms of the Silent. Translated by Richard L. Tierney.
Na ‘Aear, na ‘Aear! Mýl ‘lain nallol,
I sûl ribiel a i falf ‘loss reviol.
Na annûn hae, ias Anor dannol.
Cair vith, cair vith, lastal hain canel,
Lamath in-gwaithen i gwennin no nin?
Gwannathon, gwannathon taur i onnant nin;
an midui orath vín a dennin inath vín.
Trevedithon ‘aear land erui ciriel.
Falvath enainn bo Mathedfalas dannol,
Lamath vilui vi Tol Gwannen cannen,
Vi Tol Ereb, ned Bar-in-Edhil i Edain ú-gennir,
Ias lais ú-dhannar: dôr en-gwaith nín an-uir!»
A linniel hen Legolas gwannant dadbenn en amon.
Resquiescas in pace, mea soror.
To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying,
The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.
West, west away, the round sun is falling.
Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling,
The voices of my people that have gone before me?
I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me;
For our days are ending and our years failing.
I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing.
Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling,
Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling,
In Eressëa, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,
Where the leaves fall not: land of my people for ever!
Rest in peace my sister.
(by J.R.R. Tolkien, Return of the King. Latin by me)