Operation Oysterhood: Day Sixty-Seven

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

— @HaggardHawks

And Wrote My Story Anyway by Barbara Boswell

I cannot tell you how excited I am about this book. I love the title, the cover, and I can’t wait to get a copy later this year. To read an interview with the author, click here: BARBARA BOSWELL on her AND WROTE MY STORY ANYWAY.

Barbara Boswell followed Toni Morrison’s advice:

If there is a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, you must be the one to write it.

Thank you! As a reader and a scholar of South African literature, I have been longing for this book for many, many years.

This excitement can be rivalled for me personally only by the upcoming publication of the Afrikaans translation of Die vyfde Mevrou Brink, vertaal deur ERIKA VILJOEN. The book is at the printers! The fact that it exists now in the language of André’s soul puts my literary soul at peace. The memoir could never feel complete without this translation and I hope that readers will welcome it into their hearts. Baie dankie, Erika, Danél & Protea Boekhuis!

A blank grey book casting a shadow on a white background

I had no intention of facing the booze queues today, so it was a quiet morning in bed, working with my faithful catssistants. No real literary work can happen without their input.

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Today is International Children’s Day and my Mom still insists on celebrating with us, so we had a Skype meeting with her in the morning and laughed a lot together to begin the day, week and new month. Two happy children! And we owe so much of that happiness to her. Thank you, Miś!

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The view of the Mountain from my walk AT NOON today. Every time I look up at the “little pebble”, as a friend once called it, I have these lines from Four Seasonal Observations of Table Mountain by Antjie Krog echoing in my head:

Antjie Krog

I did not have to navigate crowds while walking, but the carelessness of people does not cease to astound me. Most were behaving kindly and thoughtfully, but why not every single one? I am not asking that everyone performs a somersault when encountering another human being. It is just a mask. Why is it soooo difficult to wear a mask properly, over your mouth and nose, and to keep a safe distance to other walkers passing you? WHY?

The other day I saw someone I usually admire advertising face masks and praising their loose fit. I could only shake my head. The whole point of a mask is that it fits tightly and doesn’t have to be fiddled with all the time…

Breathe, Karina. Breathe (in your masks).

Heard on the radio today that when Covid-19 takes away your sense of smell, you even can’t smell coffee. NOT SMELL COFFEE!

EG_F9F1WoAAZID7

Photo by Yongqing Bao.

I am writing a bit earlier today than usual, because I want to cook myself a nice dinner and relax tonight by watching recorded TV dramas.

Another drawing. Inspired by an image of a kite.

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Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. Stay at home.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: Day Sixty-Six

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

— @HaggardHawks

463

As long as it is not 666, I suppose, although no one can predict the future; we might get to Day Six Hundred and Sixty-Six and devil knows what it will unleash…

Tomorrow’s future is written in liquid. I have an idea that those not returning to work and/or not worried about their children returning to school will be on one single mission: booze! In all its manifestations… After reading a New York Times article about how a wine lover lost his ability to taste and smell after being infected with Covid-19, I am thinking that if we don’t go about alcohol shopping wisely in the next few days, we might not be able to enjoy the loot even if we do manage to bring it back home… Something to consider, me thinks. Food and drink remain two of the few simple pleasures that we can still delight in daily. But even a relatively mild Covid-19 infection can take away your sense of smell and taste and with them these basic quotidian joys.

NO, thank you.

My mission for tomorrow is a walk – during the day. Just like that! It is nearly unimaginable. Bliss awaits.

A rather quiet Sunday of work in the morning and the afternoon and laziness in the middle. A long Skype conversation with an Austrian friend in the evening. It reminded me of the Polish saying “Families are best in photographs.” Sometimes. Often. There are lovely exceptions, though.

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The afternoon warmth and light were so soothing today that I decided to work on my laptop on the stoep. Mozart and I have developed a new routine: whenever I sit down at the table on the stoep in the late afternoons, he comes to join me and settles on my lap for a while before he ventures out into the garden again, back to his independent, elusive ways.

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Usually, one or both of the Cat Ladies join(s) us on the stoep, but Mozart is the only one who wants to sit on my lap. But today, eventually, Glinka gave us this look…

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…and I immediately wanted to grow another lap. Being a cat mother can be tricky. Thank goodness I don’t have to send any of them to school tomorrow… (and Glinka reclaimed my lap while I have been typing this post :)).

Lockdown level three is nearly upon us. But our local infection rates keep rising.

And the world across the ocean is burning with an ancient injustice, anger and heartache.

I often think of the title of the late Dr. Paul Kalanithi‘s memoir, When Air Becomes Breath. The ability, the right, the joy of air to become breath – that greatest of treasures – may it be granted to all of us, equally.

Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. Stay at home.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: Day Sixty-Five

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

— @HaggardHawks

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Yesterday, André would have turned eighty-five. All day long, I was exchanging messages and calls with family and friends who all remembered the special day, my love among them – you know that someone loves you when they treasure all of you, including your past and everything and everyone who contributed to shaping (positively!) the you who you are today. I usually throw a dinner party for André’s birthday and celebrate with dear friends, but this year, in the evening, I lit candles in André’s library and, sitting in one of his visitors’ chairs, read through all the social media messages that came through on his birthday and was deeply moved by all the remembering. The messages continued coming until I was falling asleep with Salieri next to me. The last one was from one of André’s former creative writing students. He inspired and taught so many of us.

There is something about birthdays, anniversaries and other special occasions that focuses and intensifies grief. The pain grows more bearable as the years go by, but the loss remains the same.

My lemon meringue pie from the Alma Café arrived home on Friday afternoon. It was meant to last the weekend, but the last slice disappeared already today just after dinner… I blame it on my hormones!

I had a slice for breakfast. The meal that I ordered with it was a divine butter chicken, also all gone by now…

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Can’t wait for the new menu for next week!

Saturday morning was reserved for a grumpy Wild Earth hippo and reading (in bed). The hippo refused to share his water with the buffaloes and angrily rearranged the branches of the dam, displaying his impressive teeth and chasing everyone else away. It was quite something to watch.

In the afternoon, once I’d finally made it out of my PJs, I went into domestic goddess mode and vacuum cleaned carpets, polished wooden and washed tiled floors, dusted, hung out laundry and cleaned the pool. Sadly, I also had to bury a small mouse that drowned in the pool.

Mozart’s nest seems dry enough again for him to occupy during the day and the Frog Prince made an appearance.

In all my cleaning frenzy, I took the decision to return the guest bed to its usual location! Yep, no more TV bed in the lounge. I have manged quite a few nights in my bedroom bed and the house it getting so cold that falling asleep without an electric blanket is difficult to contemplate. During my refugee days as a child, I suffered so much from cold that I promised myself never to sleep in a cold bed again if I can help it. In case of insomnia emergencies, I will simply move to the couch, wrap myself in quilts and my winter duvet and hug a hot water bottle; if need be, but let’s hope not. My cheeks haven’t been sore for a long time, my back is okay, I sleep through most nights (although nightmares still continue to haunt me), so I should be okay. One gets used to almost everything…

The Covid-19 numbers in the Western Cape keep rising, and with the move to level three, they will probably continue in the direction of the CTICC. My mission is clear – avoid the CTICC at all costs until it transforms into an ordinary convention centre again. And so almost nothing will change for me at level three apart from walking more outside the property at different times of the day and stocking up on red wine sometime in the next two weeks (I am apprehensive about a possible return to hard lockdown thereafter). No shopping on Monday though. I think Monday is going to be an absolute shopping nightmare… Yesterday, I spent half an hour in a queue outside a supermarket for essentials. The man in front of me kept his distance, but he hardly ever wore his mask; when he did, it was incorrectly, and he spent most of his time talking on the phone. I was very grateful for my mask and my viser, but I was disappointed in myself that I did not have the guts to tell him to please put on his mask and to keep it on his mouth and nose while he was in the queue with the rest of us, especially when he was talking on his phone. Afterwards I felt that I should have stood up for my right to safety and health, but I simply wasn’t brave enough to be confrontational :(

Anyway…

I initially saved the bottle of pink bubbly that my friend and HAIR co-editor, Joanne Hichens, gave me before the lockdown for the last weekend of the first three weeks of level five (before we knew it was only level five). When the ban on alcohol was extended, I decided to save it for the last weekend before it is lifted. And voilà! After all the hard work of the afternoon, Mozart and I enjoyed a glass of pink bubbly on the stoep and watched Wild Earth and our own winter sunset in Rosebank.

Great literary news of the day:

Number one – yesterday I had a lovely Skype conversation with someone who is writing up an amazing family story and she picked my brains about it. I CANNOT wait to see what happens with this book. It sounds simply marvelous.

And two – I saw today that Lyndsey Stonebridge has a new book coming later this year. An absolute must-have for me!

Writing and Righting

Writing and Righting: Literature in the Age of Human Rights

A timely and topical work from an important literary critic

A bold and accessible argument for the moral and political value of literature in rightless times

Establishes connections between literary cultures and the development of human rights

Introduces the sub-discipline of literature and human rights to a general audience

Stonebridge’s latest, Placeless People: Writing, Rights, and Refugees, is such a vital book for our times. It taught me so much about my own experience and made me see the future in a different, kinder, way.

WildEarth73

A Kalahari lion after devouring butter chicken and lemon meringue pie.

Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. Stay at home. Please wear your mask in public spaces – please!

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

Good night!

Operation Oysterhood: Day Sixty-Three

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

— @HaggardHawks

Last night, Glinka decided to join me on the couch, under the quilt (left above), and we had some (and a little) whiskey and watched TV, while Bobik, the teddy bear, held the bottle in place between his thick teddy ankles. A jolly bunch if there ever was one until we all fell asleep and eventually were so uncomfortable and cold that we woke up and moved to our proper bed. It took me forever to fall asleep again, but my favourite Twitter accounts kept me entertained until Morpheus was ready to welcome me back into his elusive arms.

No roof leaks spotted yet – a miracle! – despite the much needed rain coming down in streams for most of the day. I haven’t checked up on my Frog Prince, but I have an idea that he is loving the rain.

There wasn’t really another option today but to work in the warm bed and with a steady supply of warm drinks (mostly coffee, but also ginger/lemon/honey infusions) until it was time to move in front of a welcoming winter fire. I can always rely on my catssistants to supervise the mouse and the szczurek when we are all working under a duvet.

We did go on the live safari, too, as all of us adore the Wild Earth Kalahari meerkats. They are irresistibly cute.

Giraffes? What giraffes?

WE1

Oh!

WE2

I had to write a rejection letter today and that is never easy. It is never easy to receive one either, but it is more awkward for me to be on the publisher’s side of the exchange. As writers, most of us have to learn to live with rejection letters and grow a thick skin, otherwise submitting work for potential publication becomes too traumatic. To be contributing to that skin growth as a publisher is no fun either and I wish it would not be part of the process.

Blogging is different and maybe even rougher on the soul, because there is no filter, no editor, only the deep waters of the internet. A few people have told me that they read this blog regularly, even daily, and every time I hear it, my heart smiles. So thank you to all of you for taking the time, for the kindness of reading. This has been my diary for the past sixty-three days. I haven’t recorded a single thought in my private diary during all this time. From the beginning of the lockdown, I have felt that it might be important to reflect on such a deeply affecting communal process on a communal platform. My plan is, however, to print these posts at the end of the lockdown, have them bound somehow into a book and add the lockdown blog diary to the collection of my private diaries. Thank you to all of you for being part of this daunting experience.

This was my treat of the day. My love arranged for me to have this delicious La Colombe Dine-In Experience. When La Colombe was still at its old location, that is where I first had oysters on my twenty-ninth birthday many years ago. No oysters on the dine-in menu, but everything included was so stunning that I did not miss an oyster for a second. And it was wonderful to remember our last meal there and to dream about the one that we will be able to enjoy together at the restaurant when it is safe for all of us to go back at level one or zero probably…

Level three regulations have been mostly clarified. Apart from walking more outside my property and the ability to stock up on red wine, no much will change for me personally. I just hope that everyone else who is returning to work can do so in as safe as possible manner. Let us please honour all these people by doing all we can to act in such a way that we don’t endanger them any further than absolutely necessary.

Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. Stay at home.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: Day Sixty-Two

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

— @HaggardHawks

Woke up under a cat blanket. We are all searching for warmth. The time has come when we basically move into the bedroom for the winter and only venture outside to prepare food in the freezing kitchen. Sheltering in place of a completely different kind. I left the house to sweep the stoep and get the wood for the fireplace this morning. Otherwise, read in bed, made the fire, moved to the chaise lounge in front of the fire, read, worked on my laptop, made food and a huge discovery…

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This house has always been a place of stories, ghosts and treasures, and I have always loved discovering them all. Today, I discovered something completely different. A kind of treasure, under current circumstances: a bottle of whiskey. Yep, there was one hiding under a pile of ‘stuff’! A gift I have completely forgotten about. The only time I buy whiskey is during the Open Book Festival at the Fugard – daily, gladly. It has become a tradition. That is where I first discovered my love for it quite a while ago and from the start I knew that it would not be, shall we say, wise for me to have a bottle in the house… How I could have forgotten about the gift shall remain a mystery. But now, it is here. Pray for me! (At home, please. No need to gather; I am quite sure that cash donations to the relevant places of worship can be made online, too – your physical presence at the potentially lethal mass gathering will not be required.)

Forgive the sarcasm, but I have lost my faith.

Medieval feline proofreader

Good literary news of the day (apart from a fireplace and a bottle of whiskey in the house): my brother said that my copy of Medieval Monster Hunter by Damien Kempf has arrived. I wanted to have the book, but knew that having it posted to SA right now would be impossible, so I had it sent to my Mom in Austria. Krystian, who is visiting her at the moment, loved it so much that he asked whether he could take it with him home and show to his partner. When we briefly met on Skype, he said he couldn’t stop laughing while turning the pages. The best kind of book review, me thinks.

Nowadays, laughter is a huge treasure, so I am very happy that this book is making my brother happy and I can’t wait to pick up my copy when I visit Austria again.

And talking about Austria, earlier this evening, I saw this when I went on Twitter:

Van der Bellen

I can only hope that during this discussion, my other President, Van der Bellen, shared a lot of his insights on the effects of Covid-19 on Austria with our President Ramaphosa. After all, as an Austrian citizen, I could have been on a repatriation flight this weekend, but I know where my home is, and in my secular way I pray that my home will listen to insights from countries that have managed the pandemic exceptionally well, so that we can all enjoy the Austrian Alps and the Kruger as soon as possible without killing each other while at it…

Polish by birth, Austrian by citizenship, South African by heart. Love, Karina

Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. Stay at home. Stay tuned for a report on whiskey-fuelled dreams.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: Day Sixty-One

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

@HaggardHawks

I can’t believe that I am reading about tobacco, but here we are. Yesterday ended with the Tobacco Wars and this morning began with them: fascinating stuff, reads like a thriller. The author’s personal story of complicated complicity and deep regret resonates with me in uncanny ways. The rest makes me happy that I’ve never picked up a cigarette. I like lighting candles, braais and fireplaces, but that’s about it.

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This gorgeous creature came to visit today. Moths are considered messengers of death in many cultures across the world. But I don’t need to turn to symbolism to read the signs. The weeks ahead are spelled out in quite clear letters across the landscape of this city and beyond.

The last time I visited the CTICC, it was Valentine’s Day and I went to see Sue Greeff’s exhibition at the art fair. I find her work stunning. Knowing how much I like it, my love contacted the artist and bought me a beautiful artwork that I took to at the exhibition.

Today, I saw the chilling footage of the hospital for Covid-19 patients established in the CTICC in anticipation of what’s to come. Roughly at the same time as the centre was being considered for this purpose a few weeks ago, I also heard discussions about the identification of suitable spaces for mass graves. There is talk of them again. We are readying ourselves for these hospitalisations and deaths and burials and yet I don’t think that most of us understand what lies ahead.

And I have just read about the places of worship reopening at level three… Really? Really???

The phrase “a nail in the coffin” is all that comes to mind. But there might not even be a coffin. A cardboard box or a shroud might have to suffice.

Very little makes sense any longer. Did I write something about a vision the other day? Forgive me, for I have sinned.

And yet: I see people declaring their ‘religions’ on social media and feeling deprived that they can’t have their nails done, have tea with friends, or see their favourite show live. I get it. Of course it makes sense. Compared to a religious gathering, some of these activities are probably much, much safer.

But for now, I don’t want any of it. Not as long as that new hospital in the CTICC looms large, waiting patiently for our sick and all the prayers that will accompany them when they suffer alone without their loved ones to hold their lonely hands.

I will do anything I can to avoid this fate.

I will love my loved ones in ways that do not put them at risk. I will try to fulfill all my professional obligations as long as I can and as safely as I can. I will perform essential tasks, do essential shopping and walk in the rain. I will cuddle with The Cats. My home, my Family (human and furry) and Friends, have always been my sanctuary – may they continue offering me their hearts for sheltering in place.

We need to take care of one another.

Mother's Day

Today, my brother and I celebrated Mother’s Day with our Miś. She said that all she wanted for Mother’s Day was to be with us, so my brother organised a fancy take-away meal that was delivered to Mom’s home and he was there to receive it when it arrived. Then they set up everything and they connected with me on Skype. We chatted, ate, drank wine and laughed for over two hours together, and the world felt a saner place again.

Our reality doesn’t have to be forever like this, but if we keep it small and safe for long enough, there will be a tomorrow, and the day after, and eventually we will meet again and hug and cry with joy.

Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. Stay at home.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: Day Sixty

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

@HaggardHawks

426The Cape of Storms. As the lovely Khalida commented on Twitter, I did brave the elements this morning, but, as I explained, only because I would rather brave the elements than people right now. And the weather has kept most people indoors before nine a.m., so I ventured out and loved every second of my walk on the Rondebosch Common.

During the last two days, the Western Cape has recorded over a thousand new confirmed Covid-19 cases each day. The area where I live is among the ones most affected. Physical distancing might be the only way to keep safe, no matter how hard it is. I think we need to comprehend that the possibility of minimising human interaction is a great privilege right now. At least that’s the way I see it. Rustum Kozain tweeted earlier today: “I am staying on lockdown level 6.” I get it! And for the foreseeable future, I don’t see much changing for me personally and professionally either, whether we are on level five or three. Acting as much as possible as if we were still in hard lockdown – if you have the luxury to do so – will save lives. I still remember that early advice: act as if you were already infected…

I walked in solitude with the elements and it felt good.

This beautiful autumn leaf wanted to be taken home. It is next to my bed and it makes me smile every time I see it. I love the colours.

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I did sleep in my own bed last night, without interruptions, but with a little bit of help from the medicine box. I just couldn’t face a night of lying awake in a storm.

Salieri and I spent a long time in bed this morning. I got up briefly to handle a few professional emails, but returned to bed the moment they were written. After discovering the fun of a book ribbon, Salieri said that I must find more such books to read. With pleasure, dear Salieri! I love books with ribbons, too.

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You know the weather is bad when Mozart refuses to go out during the day. He usually sits on the stoep even during the worst rainfalls, but this morning he decided to stay in and listen to the rain on the windowsill.

It was a chicken soup kind of day. I cooked it yesterday, anticipating that it would be needed in the beginning of this week.

One of the printers I work with had to close down for two weeks due to a confirmed Covid-19 case. It affects one of the projects I am involved in. We need to brace ourselves, be patient, support the people we work with in any way we can. Sadly, these are not going to be isolated cases. (Which reminds me, the moment I finish writing, I have to bring in the uncollected garbage – uncollected since last week, also because of a Covid-19 case at our depot…)

The good news is that from this week on the Alma Café is delivering home-made dinners in the vicinity of Alma Road in Rosebank. If you are in the area, but are not on their mailing list yet, do get in touch with them: orders@almacafe.co.za – the menu for this week looks delicious. Retha’s famous lemon meringue pie features on the menu for each day. Bliss! I ordered a whole pie just for myself for next weekend :)

But tonight, a different kind of treat awaits…

435First fire of the season.

Good night.

Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. Stay at home. If in doubt about what we are doing, think of Brazil.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

Day SIXTY!!!

Operation Oysterhood: Day Fifty-Nine

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

@HaggardHawks

(Disclaimer: written under the influence of white wine. I DO NOT drink white wine. I DO NOT like white wine. But: I wanted to cook something really nice for Sunday lunch – the choice was between a recipe with red wine and one with white wine. This was before the level three announcement for SA, so at level four, I just could not imagine pouring half a bottle of precious red wine into a chicken stew. So I chose the white wine recipe. But again, at level four, I could also not imagine pouring half a bottle of any alcohol down the drain, so after using some for cooking, I decided to drink the rest of the white. And once again, I remember why I DO NOT like white wine. Sorry! So, please, blame my rambling on the wine. The lunch was delicious, though.)

Sunday: a lazy morning in bedroom bed with Salieri after a night spent on the TV bed with Glinka, surfacing and going under several times until, finally, five a.m. arrived and relieved me of the torture. Glinka followed me for her morning cuddle when I went to the bathroom. She loves accompanying me in the mornings, and often supervises my morning teeth brushing, hair combing, etc. She is the only Furry One who allows me to hold her like a baby.

This morning’s reading was fun. As was Wild Earth live safari. Salieri wasn’t too impressed with the leopard cleaning himself and just lying there, feline gorgeousness and all. (I was! But don’t tell her.)

WildEarth67

We absolutely loved the Kalahari feed, with Dylan and the meerkats. A wonderful addition to the live safari experience.

Then, the human of the family had to brave the scary outside world again and do some shopping. It was manageable, but the pandemic scatter-brain is a thing. This time, I forgot the shopping list and shopped from memory – got everything apart from one item. Not bad, but that was before the white wine…

We cooked, we rested, we walked (in the garden), we spoke to Mom on Skype and wrote to a few lovely people. Then it was time to watch The Address.

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I have never ever been interested in smoking. Haven’t even tried it once. But now, NOW the cigarette ban is beginning to intrigue me. Apart from two big conspiracy theories of the distant past (not SA-related), I am not really into them, so I still want to find a real, reasonable explanation for the ban. Research will be done. (And I can’t believe that I am actually thinking about this – I have a few dear friends who smoke and I always have ashtrays ready for them when they visit, but in general I am not a fan of smoking, yet I am fascinated by the continued ban.)

The walking at level three will be lovely. I gave up on walking outside my garden after last Monday’s excursion. I might walk in the rain tomorrow though, as I suspect the streets will be empty.

Otherwise, not much will change for me. Cape Town is not only a Covid-19 hotspot, it is a Covid-19 megahotspot and I understand what the President meant when he said that a lot will depend on us when we move to level three. One’s own safety and the safety of others will become even more difficult to maintain. When so much depends on individual responsibility, we better pull up our sleeves and do our bit.

Oh, but the road ahead looks rough! I am exhausted just thinking about it.

There is one more thing that I need to note tonight – the most important one for the day perhaps: I am so glad that I live in a country that has someone like Cyril Ramaphosa as President at a time like this. I spent a few years in the UK and in the US during my migratory days and have many fond memories of those times and places, but right now, judging solely on the attitude of their leaders during the pandemic, I would not want to be in either of those countries.

I know that once we get to the details of how to survive a pandemic, everything becomes muddled, but many countries fail that part of the plan too. No one has this really figured out. However, when it comes to an overall vision and the President’s official stance, not many countries have coped better than SA since the outbreak of Covid-19. The implementation of that vision is nowhere near acceptable, but at least there is a vision. For the rest, that is where individual responsibility can achieve wonders, as so many South Africans have proven over and over again under the most dire circumstances. We need to tap into those creative, positive, inspiring energies, be the best that we can be as individuals. Right now, our lives and the lives of our loved ones depend on it.

Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. Stay at home.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: Day Fifty-Eight

OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.

@HaggardHawks

415

How do others survive insomnia nights without Soviet Soldiers Dancing? Last night was bad. Before I moved to the TV bed and finally fell asleep, I was simply paralysed with reality. But there is no waking up from this nightmare.

Yesterday, when I went to the vet and the post office, it took me forever to leave the house and in the end I did forget to take my cell phone with me and returned to get it before continuing with the trip. I feel the same anxiety about leaving the house now as after the break-ins. Complete scatterbrain-mode. Despite the crime in our area reducing to nearly non-existent – although I have no idea about last week’s stats as our police station is temporarily closed because of Covid-19 – I am more paranoid than ever. I think its the health-threat manifesting in more familiar fears. The overall risk to one’s safety is huge on all kinds of levels right now, especially when you are a woman living alone. And all I can think of saying is: Fuck. (Which reminds me, I discovered a wonderful Twitter account last night, too: Swear Trek. Highly recommended when you can’t sleep and want to scream into the night.)

I wish I could wake up from the pandemic. I have lived through some dicey situations, but there was always a sense that it’s all going to turn out all right, somehow, in the end.

“How?”

“It’s a mystery.”

(Shakespeare in Love)

And now?

Lester Kiewit asked on Twitter: “At what point in the last 57 days did you realise we are well and truly in the kak?” And my dear friend Debbie responded earlier today: “When the reality of Italy lockdown hit the news. My kak-meter hit the red level.” I remember that moment, too. And then it was just a matter of time…

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Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. Stay at home. Have a G&T.

“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”

— NICD

dav

For J, J & S – missing you all!