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

— @HaggardHawks

Three weeks. That is what I thought last year on the 27th of March when starting the Oysterhood Diary: record the lockdown daily as it happens for three weeks, the announced initial length of the hard lockdown in South Africa. A year later, here I am. Like the possessed olive thrush trying to defeat his rival in my window’s reflection for the past two days (maybe longer?), I seem to be doomed for failure. I was thinking of making this my last Oysterhood post, but I am not sure how I will feel tomorrow. The lockdown is long from over. The pandemic nowhere near its end. I think I have become more resilient, despite of – or maybe because of – all the upheavals of the past twelve months. I am still miraculously healthy, or at least almost as healthy as I was before the pandemic. What doesn’t kill you, makes you … Yet, something is dead: a way of being.

And there are, of course, the nearly three million official Covid-19-related deaths worldwide; millions of others who loved them traumatised, grieving.

No matter what else, it is impossible not to be exhausted from the constant onslaught of terrifying news, having to be always vigilant, trying to somehow make it through the day, and the night, with the shreds of one’s dreams clinging to one’s soul.

In desperation, hope has torn out a few of her feathers. What if they don’t grow back?

We dance on.

Glinka and I put in a good day’s work today and finally got to the end of the last big project we have been working on. Some polishing remains to be done, but these are tiny details.

In the evening, my love and I went to one of our favourite restaurants in Cape Town to celebrate his birthday which happened while we were nowhere near a fine dining restaurant.

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

The Cats had the most caring, loving Friend staying with them while we were away. They were completely relaxed when we arrived back. Happy to see us, but also content with their own home holiday. We are so lucky to have such beautiful Friends. Thank you, Debbie!

I spent the day organising myself back into home life and responsibilities and then relaxed with Salieri on the sofa in the late afternoon and watched some TV. Tomorrow, work begins properly again. But I think I can face it.

We have had an incredible holiday. My love and I travel extremely well together, but we also love returning home.

Today is the 365th day of lockdown. An entire year. Tomorrow will be a strange anniversary …

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 was working in my garden this afternoon during loadshedding (thank goodness, Eskom is not responsible for the sun) and out of the blue started planning a dinner party for friends. I was thinking who to invite and what to cook and how to seat the people for best conversations, and only after about ten minutes of these wonderful musings, I realised: PANDEMIC. I actually managed to forget for ten blissful minutes that we were still in lockdown and the dinner party I was cooking up in my head was not going to happen any day soon … But it was so nice to think about it!

They saw the suitcase, so I did not have to spell it out to them, but I did tell The Cats that I was going away with my love for a while. The loveliest of Friends is moving in tomorrow to take care of them, so they will have the best possible care, but they have not been impressed with the packing and preparations. Unfortunately, I did not manage to complete my last project yet, so I will be travelling and finishing my work, but the trip was not necessarily intended to be part of the planned Big Rest, so it’s fine. The trip is going to be a proper adventure, restful only for the soul, not necessarily for the body. The Big Rest is going to be all-round laziness, squared.

My love and I had a quick, delicious dinner at HARU tonight, so that we would not have to worry about cooking and washing up. It is always great to go there.

Time for bed. One more sleep and: ROAD TRIP!

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 friend Debbie came to share a braai with me on my stoep this evening and brought the above extraordinary gift for my copy of the Lee Child biography by Heather Martin. We are both Reacher, Child and Martins (Heather and Andy) fans, so this is beyond special. And soooooo beautiful!

Most of this day was crazy – I just ran around like a headless chicken, making a few tough decisions and getting a lot of things done, all tense and exhausting – but the evening was peace and friendship and joy.

This morning, I went for another Covid-19 test to be able to travel again. The results were ready the same day: negative. It is always such a relief.

It rained in the morning.

I am so ready for bed. Good night.

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 day of accidents. First, while working in my garden, I fell into a sewer drain which was covered by rotten boards that could not support my weight, and I ended up on the ground on all fours, hurting both my feet, my left leg, and both my hands, the left one quite severely. Fortunately, I can still type, but I had to take off my rings because of the swelling in my fingers. Bruises, swellings, scratches and a sore soul.

Then, shaken, I had a difficult conversation with my brother about a topic that has been kind of lurking between us for a while, and because, purely by biological coincidence, we stand on the opposite sides of a great historical divide, it is not easy to know that we struggle to find common ground when we know, love and respect each other as much as we do.

Then, shaken and stirred, I drove Topolino into a closed property gate. Luckily, no great damage was done, but my ego is still sitting in a corner, weeping into her elbow.

Yet, at the end of it all, not only completely shattered by the global effects of the pandemic, but also acutely reminded how fragile I am because of the two accidents I had in the course of six hours, I listened to Finuala Dowling’s script about death, “Ice Cream, Thank You”, performed – beautifully – by John Maytham at the stunning Summit Place Guest House tonight, social distancing and all. One would think that the grim topic would have driven us all into misery, but that’s the magic of literature, and especially poetry, that it can uplift even at the saddest of times. We even laughed, a lot. And all of us went home feeling a little bit less alone, and a little bit less frightened.

Thank you, Finuala and John, and poetry!

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

Like so many other Kazuo Ishiguro fans around the world, I was eager to read his latest novel, Klara and the Sun. After a few pages, I anticipated that it would break my heart. And it did, but not in the way I expected. Roughly halfway through, I was beginning to get quite irritated with the tediousness of the narrative voice. But then about two-thirds into it, there was a revelation which, although predictable, opened up the possibility of a spectacular ending. That ending never comes. Instead, the novel insists on continuing with its explorations of theological concepts (not exactly in a positive light) and human fallibility, leaving us at the mercy of an artificial intelligence narrating the actions and emotions of characters who all seem to be devoid of any signs of emotional intelligence and nearly completely lacking in creative impulses or meaningful curiosity. In all its speculativeness, it is a damning critique of society, and perhaps we deserve no better. But I refuse to accept that this is all there is to it. No hope. No love. No possibility of redemption. Just cowardice, selfishness and exploitation. The bleakness of it is not how I want to imagine the world or engage with it. I believe in more. I imagine more. But reading Klara and the Sun you would never think it existed. I couldn’t help feeling disappointed, and angry. Highly conflicted. And yes, my heart is broken.

Thank goodness my love cooked a delicious dinner for me and we made a plan to rearrange some of the stunning artwork gracing his walls and watched a tense game of rugby together (this time I bet on the losing team, but hey, they were French), and ended the day on a high. Although, now that I am back home, I am about to face Eskom darkness at the worst possible time – I really hate loadshedding around the time I am about to go to sleep, even though my alarm has a new battery and I love candlelight. Luckily, I am about to finish another book – non-fiction – that has been simply amazing and cannot possibly disappoint.

Good night (I hope).

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

This week the third series of “Coroner” started on Universal Channel. It is set in Canada during the pandemic and, although it is not the first series I have watched filmed during the last year and reflecting our recent realities, it has the most authentic feel to it.

Knowing how much I love Madonna’s music, my love got one of her early LP for his turntable to play for me when I visit. I visited this afternoon to finish my work at his place when the loadshedding in my area started. I worked while my feet danced under the table.

I have completed the second last of my big projects today; one remains before I can rest. Everything is taking longer than anticipated, but I am getting there. Slowly, but surely.

In the evening, we went out to celebrate a very special occasion and potentially amazing news.

Almost every day brings with it new challenges, and opportunities. The intensity of living through these insane times is exhausting. But, no matter what, I am grateful for every moment I remain healthy. Although ‘healthy’ is relative after what we have been through.

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

It might be a midlife crisis! All this strange heaviness and the questioning of everything. Statistically, as a woman, I should have had one at forty-two, but there were no real indications of one back then. Maybe this it IT, now, at forty-four? Why not? If I don’t get a boob-job or buy a Harley – just figure out the meaning of life all anew (as one does, right?) – then the temporary suffering might be worth it.

My love and I had breakfast at the Hoghouse today and so the day began (despite loadshedding in the morning) on a positive note and continued like that: things got done. I had one extremely constructive professional meeting and just ploughed through the tasks that need to be completed before the Big Rest. Today is the first day that I could actually feel my two remaining big commitments for this month coming to an end soon and I could imagine the holiday ahead, and the joy of letting go of all this work-related anxiety. A few more days, if all goes well …

I will spend the evening ironing in front of the TV and go to bed with my cheeks less sore than they have been for the last few days. There’s hope.

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

They are shooting at unarmed student protestors. People are getting hurt, one person died. It is the year 2021. Surely, surely, there are better ways of dealing with such situations. Escalating violence is not it.

Loadshedding.

The brutal consequences of corruption.

Unusually, Mozart catssisted today, but did not want to show his whiskers to the camera. The rain chased him indoors. It seems we all slept through the worst of the storm in the night. No roof leaks that I could spot. Autumn has arrived. It will soon be time for fireplaces. The electric blanket is already being utilised …

What else? I read, worked, posted books at Postnet and the Post Office, cooked a delicious dinner – with pistachio ice cream for dessert. And talking of ice cream, my weekend plan:

Tickets: Quicket

We were supposed to see friends for a lunch in their garden, but they have been potentially exposed to Covid-19 and it feels wiser and safer to postpone.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD