Another day of work, work, work. Among my tasks today was picking up copies of the latest New Contrast issue from the printers. I will post them to subscribers and contributors tomorrow. Another great issue: 195 – it will be 200 next year!
At the end of the day, I had the great privilege to talk about Colum McCann’s Apeirogon to a book club – real readers gathered together in a room! All vaccinated. Simply amazing to be able to do this again. It was my second discussion at this particular book club. Last time (before the pandemic), I was invited to talk about Lyndall Gordon’s Outsiders. Everyone in the book club owns copies of the books they read and they really read them, so the discussions were wonderful both times. I will be invited again and I can’t wait. Apeirogon is stunning – we could have talked for hours, or thousand and one nights … ‘A community of feeling.’
Came home late, just before ten, and am now exhausted. But in a really good way.
Good night.
Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local. Get vaccinated, please.
“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”
Until I heard the 6.30pm news, it seemed like a typical Monday. Work, work, work. At the end of the day, I took my love’s cat to the vet for her monthly injections and discussed the next steps of Salieri’s recovery with him – no op yet, we are continuing with the diet and monitoring the situation. I heard the news on the way back: Facebook, Instagram and WhatsApp are down. Still, hours later, while I am writing. I have never really been on Facebook (apart from ages ago for a few hours – which was enough for me to decide against it). I have never been on WhatsApp, not even for a second. But all those nice photographs I have posted on Instagram over the past two years … It is weird to think that all of it is inaccessible and might be gone, maybe even forever.
The thought crossed my mind that I better start printing my blog – just in case.
Twitter is busy tonight!
I have only taken one photograph today, of a freshly sharpened pencil. It feels strangely prophetic.
Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local. Get vaccinated, please.
“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”
Weekend. A perfect one. Long mornings in bed with Cats, books and coffee; time relaxing with my love; only a little bit of work (intellectually and emotionally rewarding); and then, to top it all, my love and I hosted a socially distanced lunch for friends (all vaccinated). We were only six all together, but we opened the windows and doors, made a fire, and set two tables for us. We had space and food for twice as many guests, but we did not want to contribute to the beginning of the fourth wave. Ooooh, but it was nice to have a lunch party again! We made French onion soup and racks of lamb, my love took out a few special bottles from his collection, and friends brought more great wines and chocolates. There was laughter and the joy of reconnecting, not only via a screen. A true feast.
Afterwards, we cleaned up and did nothing for the rest of the day (at least I did nothing but watch TV). Tomorrow, we return to work and other responsibilities. Life is good. (And I am writing this while being fully conscious of the unbearable loss and pain and struggles we have had to endure.)
Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local. Get vaccinated, please.
“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”
I hardly left the house this past week, and if I did, it was for work-related meetings and, on Thursday, to go to the vet. The days passed in a blur, from one deadline to another. I survived on leftovers and takeaways. I only took a few photographs – the one above kind of says it all: books, manuscripts, and my lovely Salieri, who is not as well as we’d hoped she would be at this stage of her recovery. The visit to the vet confirmed that her liver is not regenerating as quickly as anticipated, and even though the thyroid diet is working, the test results could have also been better (maybe). Next week, we decide when to operate and I am dreading the time ahead. But, throughout it all, Salieri has been brave and loving and has never abandoned her literary catssistant duties (even now, she is next to me as I type).
My love has been away and the working week ended on a high yesterday afternoon with my trip to the airport to pick him up after his travels. I used to think of airports as my natural habitat, and now, it is so unusual to have an opportunity to go to one, no matter in what capacity. I recently spoke to an Austrian friend who had hoped to visit SA in November, but is postponing the trip for better times. I still don’t know whether I will make it to Austria before the end of this year. A lot will depend on Salieri’s recovery. And lockdowns: here, there.
I almost missed the announcement of the move to Level One. 27 March 2020 was 554 days ago. I continue watching the official infection and death numbers and they continue to break my heart. I understand that most of us will get infected sooner or later, but none of us should be dying from COVID-19 any longer. Vaccinations cannot save every single life, but they can save most of us, and so now that they are available across the country and there are enough for every willing person, every death feels preventable.
I am hoping that the Vooma Vaccination Weekend will encourage people to save lives, their own and the lives of others.
We have had some heartening news at Karavan Press again: award nominations, reprints, great reviews, live events coming up, new authors becoming part of the Karavan Family and new books being almost ready for print. Three more coming before the end of the year. I am no longer afraid to make plans for the future. Nothing is easy, but we are not only surviving, but thriving. A huge THANK YOU to all who made it possible – through kindness and patience; by reading and supporting us.
Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local. Get vaccinated, please.
“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”
My love had been planning the road trip to the Camdeboo for a while, but I had no idea whether I would be able to join him because of Salieri, work and then, at the last moment, a COVID scare – but it all worked out in the end: Salieri’s condition was stable, I could travel and work (part-time) and my test came back negative. Off we went! Destination Camdeboo.
Being on the road in South Africa is a transcendent experience. The vast landscapes, the endless paths, the beauty of it all. Travelling in this country means being in a constant state of awe.
Our first stop was a friends’ farm. Great company, great wine and food and all around a landscape that is simultaneously unrelenting and generous. Our friends keep cattle and fowls and make the most wonderful cheese. Being on the farm with goats and hens everywhere made me constantly think of two of Karavan Press’s novels: Breaking Milk and An Island. And it was the first time ever I had a real opportunity to interact with hens and roosters and to get to know their rhythms and truly connect. Many of the birds on the farm are more like family members than farm animals. I will never forget finding Principessa between my blanket and the duvet, where she settled happily when I went to the bathroom. I was disappointed, though, that she did not gift me with an egg.
We headed to the Mount Camdeboo Private Reserve next and spent two blissful nights up in the mountains in a secluded pod – an architectural/design feat of note – before returning to the manor house in the valley for the last night of our stay.
Once again, the calm of the incredible landscape was soothing for the soul, and the game drives delivered the most fascinating viewings and adventures. On the last evening, on our way down the mountain, we encountered a rhino mom with her baby going up on the narrow path to the top to graze. They had right of way, so the ranger reversed for about two kilometers in the dark and we waited for the family to come up and disappear into the bush at the top. While waiting for these majestic beings to make their way, we heard the horror stories of poaching in the area before drastic security measures were introduced to protect the animals.
The Camdeboo is the setting of A Fractured Land, one of the first books we published at Karavan Press. Melissa’s descriptions of these landscapes are stunningly evocative and it was wonderful for me to see them with my own eyes and to imagine the story all over again.
You cannot be in this area and not visit Nieu-Bethesda: The Owl House, Dustcovers Bookshop and the fabulous Stirlings at the Ibis that offers a six-course menu, including the most divine garlic ice cream (only one of two puddings at the end of the meal), for R180 – yes, it’s true.
If this restaurant was in Cape Town, I would stop cooking.
If the Dustcovers Bookshop was in Cape Town, my book buying addiction would stand no chance whatsoever.
The first book we saw on display when entering was Breaking Milk, and the last one I spotted after paying was The Fifth Mrs Brink. I felt totally at home.
Outside the bookshop, we discovered that we had a flat tyre. A family visiting Nieu-Bethesda was passing by and the father and sons, seeing the despair on our faces, took charge of the situation and rescued us within twenty minutes. They were amazing!
The puncture and the need to have the spare repaired before the public holiday made us rush a bit through The Owl House, but I was not sorry. It was important for me to see the place, and it was nothing like I had imagined (way beyond what I could imagine), but there is something truly unsettling in the haunting house and its fantastical garden that did not make me feel comfortable. But I love the two owls I brought home from there.
Final stop was Graaff-Reinet. Even though it is a beautiful town with many fascinating places to visit, we were not entirely ready for the return to people, traffic and ordinary life, so we headed out to the Camdeboo National Park and The Valley of Desolation on Heritage Day. For the rest, it was reading, relaxing and another dinner with our friends at the wonderful Hello You.
And then it was time to go home …
Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.
“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”
A sweaty night, a scratchy throat and the general feeling of suffering from a mild cold. I phoned my GP first thing in the morning, got a phone consultation, a script, a referral letter and a PathCare form for testing in the course of the next few hours. The pharmacy delivered my medicine and I got a test appointment just after receiving all the necessary documents in the afternoon. When you are symptomatic, you do not get out of your car to get tested, it seems. It was as uncomfortable and quick as always, but it was the first time I wasn’t sure what the outcome of the test would show. I spent most of the day in bed – I managed to do some editing work and admin, but the majority of the time was passed worrying and going through all the possible scenarios of ‘what if’. It’s either a cold or COVID-19. If it’s the former, the doctor said I can simply get better and go about my life. If it’s the latter, I have to isolate until the 23rd, independent of how quickly I recover. Thank goodness for contact-free Mr Delivery. I ordered some really nice food for dinner just to cheer myself up. I can taste and smell everything, which is bliss no matter what. Now, I just wait until the test results arrive. I think and hope that it is just a cold, but I need to make 100% sure, primarily because of the people I had been in touch with two days prior to the onset of symptoms. Sigh. Hope.
Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.
“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”
Salieri (the only work-unrelated photo I took since Monday)
The last three days have been so intense, with so many personal and professional ups and downs, that I did not have the headspace and time to write, but now I am being forced to come to a standstill.
Yesterday, I woke up with what felt like an ordinary allergic reaction. It’s spring and I have many allergies. I often wake up feeling like this during the season. I noted the change, but wasn’t too concerned – yet. Today morning, I woke up feeling different, like my body was fighting off something. In the olden days, I would have said that I might be coming down with a cold. I cancelled a coffee date with a future Karavan Press author, just to be on the safe side. I still delivered books to the distributor, but arranged a contact-free delivery. I worked an ordinary working day. In the late afternoon, my temperature started rising. It’s not terribly high; just worryingly THERE. Tomorrow morning, I will phone my doctor and try to arrange for a COVID-19 test. I informed the three people I have been in contact with two days prior to the onset of symptoms. I asked my love to stay away and isolate until we know more. Apart from all the professional commitments, we have so many lovely plans for the next while … Maybe it is just a simple cold. If it is the dreaded COVID-19, I don’t fear it for myself – I am fully vaccinated and feel confident now that I will be okay – but I am a bit worried about the people I have been in contact with. They are also all vaccinated, but still … I can isolate and wait this out, but others have families and responsibilities that make this much harder. What a bloody nuisance! And I am so sorry that I am causing distress to others.
I have tons of literary news to share, but all of it can wait. For now, I pray.
Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.
“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”
I miss Rafa. (I was about to write this sentence when a tennis racket got destroyed on centre court at the men’s US Open final; unsurprisingly, it wasn’t Medvedev’s.) Rafa posted the above photo yesterday. I wish him a speedy recovery.
Tonight, there is only one tennis player I am cheering for. At this stage, it looks like he has the chance to write his own tennis history by winning his maiden Grand Slam title. Any other outcome would be deeply disappointing to me.
A quiet Sunday. Morning rain, reading, rugby, some housework, Skype with my family, dinner with my love. I washed my impossibly long hair. I think a visit to the hairdresser can no longer be avoided.
Tomorrow, we move to adjusted level two. I am hoping for more live literary events, theatre and music. I listened to the President’s announcement while driving home. We have enough vaccines to keep everyone as safe as possible. Theoretically, there is no need to face the fourth wave with any apprehension, but I doubt that all those people who believe the vaccine will magnetise them, will suddenly see the light and join the fight against COVID-19 by getting their jabs.
I’ve been typing between points. Medvedev is two sets up. Only one more to go …
Good night.
Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.
“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”
Twenty years later and 9/11 is still a near-blank in my memory. Unlike most people, all I recall about that day is a turquoise sea, a balmy breeze and the laughter of friends. We were sailing in Croatia and it was bliss. Two days after the attacks, we arrived at a marina and, still oblivious to everything else going on in the world, in the bathroom, I overheard two German women discussing the possibility of war. Confused, I returned to our boat and told the skipper what I had heard. We went to the boat next to us and inquired of the crew what they knew …
I found a phone card and a public phone and called home, asking whether it would be wise to continue with our trip or return immediately. My family said to sail on, but to keep in touch.
I saw the first 9/11 images on a small satellite TV on another boat in the marina. We sailed on, haunted, and the rest of the trip was a daze. It felt like the world might be ending, and we had the last opportunity to enjoy its wonders. And the world did end. Everything was different when I finally returned home at the end of that week.
Yesterday, CapeTalk’s Sara-Jayne Makwala King spoke to 9/11 survivor Joe Dittmar, who was working on the 105th floor in South Tower when the first plane hit the North Tower. It was an incredibly moving interview and I had tears in my eyes throughout. In the end, still in 2001, I did see the visual footage of what had happened that day and afterwards watched the documentaries and read many accounts, but the events of 9/11 are not locked into my memory the same way they are for people around the world who not only witnessed everything as it was unfolding, but were directly connected to the tragedy or lived through it. Joe’s memories and his way of dealing with the horrors of that day made me think of our present. The pandemic is an ongoing tragedy in which our lives are threatened every day and perhaps one way of coping with the trauma of it would be to have support groups in which survivors can articulate and share stories, like the survivors Joe is connected to still do even twenty years after 9/11.
Yesterday alone, I heard from two friends how tough their reality is right now, what challenges they are facing and what dreams they have had to give up because of the pandemic. My heart breaks a little every day. And every day I wonder how we somehow still get up in the morning and how so many of us can still give to others – in tiny and huge gestures. The resilience that is keeping us relatively functional, despite everything, is astounding. And the onslaught has been relentless for over one a half years. For me, what – or rather who – makes it all possible are the people I share my life with: my family – including The Cats – and friends. Throughout it all, I have never felt abandoned; I have pulled through because of them.
I spoke to another dear friend on Skype yesterday – she recently lost both her parents, and even though it wasn’t because of COVID-19, her grief and the cruel logistics of wrapping up two estates have been compounded by the pandemic. Her fear of losing another loved one is so much greater. And yet, she remains kind and giving and every time I speak to her, I feel grateful to have a friend like her.
I spent most of the day yesterday reading and editing, and in the evening my love treated me to the Spring menu at La Colombe, so the day ended with a divine meal. The new creations that are part of the menu are a true celebration of a new season and allow you to immerse yourself in a feast that delights all the senses.
When so many restaurants have had to close their doors because of the pandemic, it is heartening to see that a few of our favourites are not only surviving, but pushing their creative energies to new levels and flourishing.
I arrived back home just in time for the curfew and meant to write Oysterhood and watch the women’s US Open final, but I fell asleep in the middle of both. I am catching up this morning. The rain is falling, the coffee is good, and The Cats are sleeping deeply on my bed. Later today, I will be skyping with my Family and spending the afternoon and evening with my love. I would be nowhere without my human and feline loved ones.
Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.
“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”
Karina Magdalena 