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

— @HaggardHawks

• 

• 

My baby turned thirteen today (she was born on the 29th, but it’s not a leap year, so we have been celebrating today). She still looks and acts like a kitten. And I can still remember the day when she came to live here: Michela Glinka (13).

Lovely friends came to lunch today. We haven’t seen one another since before the lockdown and it was amazing to catch up. They also somehow managed to stay healthy all this time, but like everyone else have battled with the world turning upside down on us, especially in the arts.

Late in the afternoon, The Cats and I settled next to the pool to enjoy the lingering warmth of the day and to read one of Elsa Winckler’s novels. My reading has been quite heavy in the last few days and I wanted a book that would make me relax and smile. The Whisperer is perfect. And the moment I turned to romance, the Frog Prince showed up again. I thought my Cape River Frogs have abandoned me, but at least one is still hanging around after all.

In the fictional world, I was really, really disappointed in the Survivor finale. In the real world of surviving, I am glad we have moved to Level One. Nothing changes for me personally, but a few economy sectors have a greater chance to recover now. And if we just keep one another as safe as we possibly can, perhaps we can make this work, somehow. Perhaps. A third wave is not something that I am looking forward to, but it is probably coming …

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

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

— @HaggardHawks

• 

• 

I love the colours, the smell and the taste, but I just can’t help feeling simultaneously fascinated and repulsed by granadillas, especially when the pulp is removed from the fruit. I can’t explain it. It is just one of those weird Karina-things.

A day filled with the full spectrum of news, from the worst to the best. Every pandemic day feels like a week.

One of my dearest friends, whom I have known longer than any other South African, has invited us to a postponed celebration of my birthday at Benguela Cove today. It was my first, but definitely not the last, visit to the estate (apart from anything else, perfect safety conditions – large shaded outdoor spaces where one can sit in comfort and not agonise over other people being too near).

After returning home, my MiniMo and I mowed the grass in the garden and cleaned the pool. My love and I are expecting two lovely guests for a simple, socially distanced lunch in the garden tomorrow. A good weekend.

The number of active Covid-19 cases in the area has returned to pre-second-wave figures and although I am not relaxing my guard, I do want to socialise more again, as responsibly as possible, of course.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

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

— @HaggardHawks

• 

• 

• 

A morning in bed, reading about the different levels of abuse and discrimination women face in their lives. First, the next chapter in Rita Colwell and Sharon Bertsch McGrayne’s A Lab of One’s Own. It’s not that any of these stories are entirely new to me. None of them shock me. But reading about the unabated discrimination women in the sciences (and everywhere else) have been dealing with for centuries and still have to battle every bloody day of their lives makes me tired, and angry. And it strengthens my resolve to work with more women, support more women, tell more women’s stories and walk proudly with my head held high, because, goddess knows, I have witnessed and experienced the misogyny, the sexism, the bias – conscious or not – all myself in one form or another – all my life.

And then, a manuscript. A story about abuse. I finished reading it today. Incredible, beautiful, powerful writing which somehow manages to reveal, hold and transcend a story of horror. Even though we have met several times at literary occasions, I don’t really know the writer personally, but I have been reading her work for a while now and have become a fan of her prose. What I did not know, but what the manuscript revealed to me, is that over a decade ago, the two of us have shared the pages of the POWA anthologies, Breaking the Silence. These were some of my earliest published stories, for which I also won prizes. Our lives touched back then already and, years later, here we are: a gentle trust of sharing established. To write a manuscript like that you have to make yourself vulnerable beyond most people’s comprehension and you have to summon a courage from somewhere deep inside that you usually don’t even know is possible. And somehow words spill onto a page, reach someone else in the early hours of a morning, and transform, as if by magic, into the tears of compassion, understanding and, most importantly, healing. These are the stories that make you feel less alone in the world, make you comprehend that all your brokenness, shame, loneliness and hurt have been felt before. And that they have been overcome. That there is a light at the end of this particular tunnel. Often, all it takes to reach it is “breaking the silence”.

It was another full day of work and stuff, but nothing as important as this morning’s reading. I did get a lovely phone call from a friend, and my love stopped by for a HARU takeaway dinner. I am going to spend the rest of the evening watching TV and sipping a nice wine. My wild Friday nights.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

(P.S. Yes, my name has been completely misspelled in one of the anthologies, but it is still me.)

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

— @HaggardHawks

The wind was relentless, pushing the incoming waves away from the shore with a force only the sea would recognise, and whipping up gusts of sand that cut like razors into my exposed skin. I stepped onto a shell and cut the sole of my foot. Salt water, I thought, the best medicine! But I realised that I was still too scared to venture properly into the sea after underestimating it a few months ago, the scars unmistakable on my arm.

Once again, I had the place almost entirely to myself. And it was good to have only the wind howling all around and chasing all thoughts away from my head. Just one hurt foot in front of the other, and the rhythm of the sea. Its colours today, as always, were balm for the soul. The lighthouse in the distance. The light …

I returned home to my work and did what I had to. Dinner with my love. Post-dinner chat with Mom and Krystian about to begin …

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

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

— @HaggardHawks

My first (and until now only) published novel, Invisible Others. I signed a copy of it for someone today and realised that by pure chance I was wearing the same outfit as in the author photograph of seven years ago. The only thing that is missing is the beautiful Scandinavian brooch that was stolen from me a few years ago when someone broke into my house and took many things that can’t be worth much to the people who own them today, but were invaluable to me. The gorgeous jewelry piece was a gift from a special woman I met in Norway many years ago. So many memories …

An ordinary Wednesday. I am beginning to feel that I am stabilising mentally, coping, somehow. Despite hormonal monstruality. But then, I did have chocolate cake for lunch – whatever it takes to get through the days.

My love and I went to an artist’s studio in the evening today to view their most recent work, which was utterly stunning. I wish I could, but it is not mine to share; all I can do is assure the world that it is worth waiting for, as all great art is.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

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

— @HaggardHawks

Letting my hair down at the end of the day.

I go through these weird phases. Basil. Fresh basil, I just can’t get enough of it right now.

Today was a good day. A morning of reading, some admin, my love stopped by for coffee, editing, lunch at HARU with Lester, who submitted the manuscript of his debut novel (!!!) to Karavan Press, more editing and then an hour of hanging out with the Cats next to the pool before it got too dark outside to read.

I meant to go walking on the beach today, but I ran out of time. It felt good, nevertheless, to simply get through a lot of the work planned for the day. And seeing Lester and talking stories, books, writers and, of course, Covid-19 (it’s impossible not to) over a delicious lunch was also good for the soul (although the Covid-19 conversation was full of sorrow).

Wait until you hear what the novel is about …! And if you haven’t discovered them yet, Lester’s stories are brilliant:

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

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

— @HaggardHawks

All the usual Monday things, apart from my accountant writing to me first thing in the morning in near desperation, trying to get my provisional tax return submitted on time. I am afraid my own desperation was oozing between the lines of my reply to the poor man. But I work with good people and his professionalism and kindness have always been indispensable. Today, he saved the day, again. I am deeply grateful.

After that, I went for a walk and took the above photograph on my way back home. It irks me that I have no idea who the skeleton might have belonged to. I can’t even decide whether it was a bird or a rodent. What I am pretty certain of is that this might have been a victim of the recent fire on the Rondebosch Common.

I had to truly force myself to sit down at my computer today, but I did manage to do all of my planned work (all extremely rewarding in the end) with my catsisstants helping throughout the day. At lunchtime, I skyped with Mom and Krystian and we were once again so grateful to have survived with our health unscathed by the pandemic so far, although I do wonder a lot about all the secondary ailments that so many of us are suffering from because of the stress and horrors of current realities.

After work, my love visited for dinner and I braaied us a few lamb chops. I have really gotten good at this braai thing, even if I say so myself.

An early night. A new episode of ‘Last Week Tonight’ with John Oliver awaits :)

‘It’s not perfect, but it’s much better,’ is something I often say to myself. May it be true again this time.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

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

— @HaggardHawks

Waking up with my love is always special. Waking up with my love in a special place is magic. And because it was Sunday, there was time for coffee and reading in bed, tea on the balcony with a view, and a delicious, leisurely breakfast – Eggs Benedict, my favourite, and more coffee – before heading home to more Sunday laziness.

• 

• 

• 

I have not been well lately, feeling lost and fragile and trying more or less successfully to manage the instability and a heavy workload. My love has been a rock of support through it all. And this weekend of relaxation and beauty has been heaven.

I can’t say that I was completely restored to myself and ready for action when I returned home, but I was more at peace and, although I had no desire whatsoever to start catching up with any of the work waiting for me (not on a Sunday! it is by not respecting my limits and usual boundaries that I got into this shaky state in the first place), I was happy to do some much-needed gardening: I pruned a few trees, cleared the path to the house, removed mountains of dead leaves and, to top it all, cleaned the pool (which was turning green because of neglect). The Cats assisted throughout and were very happy to have me outdoors, dispensing cuddles between my tasks.

There is a real autumn feel in the air, the seasons changing.

We spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening in front of the TV, watching soccer and Survivor, reading books and newspapers, eating and drinking. When I visited the Alma Café to exchange some books on Friday, I got one of the pies they sell from Luke’s Larder. Perfect for a late lunch after gardening; and for dinner, simple perfection: cheese, toast and red wine.

This coming week, I tackle provisional tax and editing. I soldier on as best as I can. One small step after another.

Let’s agree not to talk about the tennis.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

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

— @HaggardHawks

A spoiled szczurek – that’s how I feel today. After completing my work for the morning and visiting the post office and the Protea Bookshop in Zonnebloem, my love whisked me away to the Waterfront where we spent the entire afternoon swimming, sunbathing, eating and relaxing at The Silo Hotel. They have some incredible specials on at the moment: Local Love at The Silo Hotel. Pure bliss.

The pizza they serve on their rooftop might be one of the best, if not the best, in town. And the views – oooooh, they are hard to beat!

For the first time in forever my cheeks are, finally, not sore. A change of perspective, some relief from the stresses of the everyday. A deep, content sigh.

What else?

Naomi Osaka has her fourth grand slam title. What an amazing achievement – a beautifully bright star on the tennis firmament.

Apart from all this happiness, is it just me or is anyone else sad thinking about this quote from the official Twitter account of NASA’s Perseverance: “Hello, world. My first look at my forever home.”

The top of the Waterfront for one day is a great escape. An eternity of service for humanity on Mars does not sound like great fun. Thank goodness rovers have no feelings and don’t understand the concept of loneliness.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

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

— @HaggardHawks

A lovely writer came to visit and brought two of my favourite things: flowers and soap. She also brought her writing, which I love. Still smiling.

Until her visit on my stoep in the late afternoon, the day was a real muddle with only one brief highlight when my love and I visited the Book Lounge together. He was buying books for himself and gifted me a copy of the latest newcomer on the local literary journal scene: Everyday Journal. The first issue features new writing by Nick Mulgrew :) (among others! exciting stuff).

Nick and I are in the process of editing his debut novel. The strongest creative lifeline for me at the moment.

Yesterday, I met with a writer whose work I first included in Touch. We hope to work together again one day. There are so many great ideas and creative forces in play out there. If only I could win the lottery and shape them into being …

But for now, I need to focus on sustaining my energy levels to get through the remaining three projects that require my attention before the BIG rest. There can be no deviation from this plan.

My love and I spent the evening at the Waterfront. We managed not to assault the police or tarnish anyone’s reputation.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Just when I was about to post this, I received a video of our friend leaving the ICU after over two months. She is alive. She will be well. The entire staff of the hospital – the miracle workers and superheroes of our times – cheered her on. And I am typing this with tears of relief and gratitude pouring down my face …