Operation Oysterhood: 5 September

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

— @HaggardHawks

My love invited me for a weekend in the Swartland.

We visited the inspiring winemakers, Andrea and Chris Mullineux of Mullineux and Leeu wines. Their farm is something out of a fairytale and I loved listening to them talk about their approach to farming and wine making – regenerative and wholesome. One can taste it in their wines.

We are staying at the FABULOUS Vineyard Views Country House. It is simply perfect. The epitome of hospitality. You begin to relax the moment you walk through the door, from the kind welcome to the delicious afternoon tea and the charm and beauty of the place, you just feel at home, but pampered and special in every moment.

Our dinner outing was a (mis)adventure of note, including loadshedding, no phone signal, wrong booking, and a bit of desperation: but, in the end, we found a place with a decent menu and a surprising wine on the wine list …

Today, I ate too much, drank too much, indulged too much, but I have no regrets.

I blame it on The Mountain … (will explain tomorrow).

Goodnight treat at the Vineyard Views Country House.

Good night.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Review: My Mother’s Laughter – Selected Poems by Chris van Wyk

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My Mother’s Laughter: Selected Poems by Chris van Wyk, compiled and edited by Ivan Vladislavić and Robert Berold, is one of those literary gems that you will want to have on your bookshelf. Most readers will know Chris van Wyk as the author of Shirley, Goodness & Mercy and its sequel, Eggs to Lay, Chickens to Hatch, both memoirs published in the decade before Van Wyk’s untimely death of cancer in 2014.

He was a versatile writer of children’s books, autobiographical works and other non-fiction, as well as fiction. As editor of Staffrider, the literary and cultural magazine founded in the late 1970s (in existence until 1993), Van Wyk mentored a whole generation of emerging writers. In 1979, he published his only poetry collection, It Is Time to Go Home.

And now, My Mother’s Laughter brings together a selection from the debut volume, also the poems which appeared in Van Wyk’s memoirs, and includes previously unpublished work, showcasing the much-loved author’s poetic talent.

Inescapably, many of the poems from It Is Time to Go Home are set against the socio-political landscape of its time, but even decades later they radiate an energy of awareness and resistance that seems timeless and inspires to action against injustice. My Mother’s Laughter opens with “Metamorphosis”, a poem signalling transgenerational concerns about how historical events such as the Sharpeville massacre and the Soweto Uprising influenced and politicised whole generations of South Africans – a young son, “fidgeting around his [father’s] work-worn body / asking questions at his shaking head”, as a teenager trying to make sense of the world “after June 16”, ends up comprehending what was and is at stake: “I nod my head. / I understand.” Despite the horrors witnessed and the struggles which followed, the sense of hope for a better tomorrow does not abandon the poet. One day, he assures, hearts “will throb / to the rhythm of a drum / And all of Africa will dance”.

The political poems are interspersed with tender love poems, dedicated to Kathy, Van Wyk’s future wife. They were married in 1980 and had two sons. “I am happy here; / just being against your navel”, the poet declares in “You Must Never Know I’m Writing You a Love Poem”.

The previously uncollected poems evoke a strong sense of home and community, how the world infiltrates both with its deeply troubled realities, but also how family bonds and friendships as well as commitment can, if not shelter you from the worst, at least allow you to confront it. They are tributes to heroes of the struggle and heroes of the everyday alike. Van Wyk remembers his “ouma’s yard” and how the “black words / on the white sheets” of the books she bought for them were “like coal strewn across a field of snow.” Equally, his “mother’s laughter” sustained the family throughout the harsh winter of oppression.

My Mother’s Laughter: Selected Poems

Chris van Wyk

Deep South, 2020

Review first published in the Cape Times on 4 September 2020.

Operation Oysterhood: 4 September

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

— @HaggardHawks

One of those days during which I went from one project to another (my own and other people’s), switching back and forth between different tasks, from early morning until evening with only a break for lunch. I slept well again the previous night, but there was lots of coffee during the day to keep going anyway. The day’s reward was a dinner with another couple in their home with the above incredible view from the parking lot of the building. Physical distancing was observed, good conversation and delicious food have been had, and we were having such a great time that we only remembered about the curfew on the way home through the nearly entirely empty streets of Cape Town just before midnight … Luckily, no one stopped us to inquire what we were up to.

A chaotic, tiring week, but a lot has been achieved, loadshedding and all. There will be rest during the weekend. I look forward to it.

Good night.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: 3 September (one day late again because of loadshedding)

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

— @HaggardHawks

Loadshedding, again. Candles everywhere. Writing on my laptop; the battery is fully charged. This will be posted in the morning. Five hours of no electricity in a day, and thus, in my case, no access to the internet is not easy to maneuver around when you are working on several projects that need to be coordinated and completed with other people. I feel like a headless chicken. Pandemic, economic crisis and loadshedding are a lot to handle (or not handle) at the same time.

Miraculously, I slept through the night last night, which felt amazing. I am hoping for another sleep like it tonight.

A day of running, but with great results; despite all the obstacles, things are falling into place.

Highlights of the day: cooking dinner for my love, Melissa delivering this wonderful beauty product that my face simply cannot get enough of (discovered through her DIY Sunrise Beauty Studio facials); picking up the new black cat in the family – custom-made for us by our favourite bead specialist; and, accidentally bumping into (in the age of social distancing, only metaphorically speaking) Rachel Zadok in the supermarket – we promised each other to have a glass of wine in the garden soon.

I go to bed exhausted, but smiling.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: 2 September (one day late due to loadshedding)

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

— @HaggardHawks

Dr M’s birthday! The Witches gathered in Noordhoek for a delicious, physically distanced lunch and literary gossip galore. My first social encounter with girlfriends in months. The bubbly was flowing like the torrential rains. There was a chocolate brownie birthday cake to die for and a gorgeous ginger-rose infusion for afterwards. And throughout, tons and tons of laughter. So much to be grateful for and celebrate. So much love.

In general, a great day on the literary front. I wrote a review, we finalised a cover, texts are going off to typesetting, announcements will be made.

The day started with a visit to my oral hygienist. She looked like an astronaut, but all the protective gear made me feel safe – not only for myself, but especially for her. I asked her since when she’d been working. May, she said. But! She only saw her own kids last week, first time in five months. We mustn’t become complacent, she warned. Indeed.

I enjoy doing more and more ordinary things like celebrating a dear friend’s birthday or catching up on my regular medical appointments or going out to dinner with my love (another treat tonight – there were oysters!), but there are places – private and public – where the safety protocols are clear and make me feel safe, and there are places where I don’t want to spend a second longer than necessary. And a lot of it comes down to the fact whether you can instinctively feel that someone has not only their own, but also your interest at heart. A lot of it is about transparency and consent. Like safe sex.

I am writing this on my laptop, in bed, surrounded by Cats (although they arrived reluctantly tonight – there was some hissing and fighting beforehand) and candles. Loadshedding. No internet. But fortunately, my garage, alarm and laptop batteries are working. And Harry is waiting between the covers of a book.

Dear Eskom, please, please get your act together. It’s high time.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: 1 September

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

— @HaggardHawks

Spring day!

They picked up the bin first thing in the morning today. Yay! My work day started soon after and finished at half past ten in the evening, with a short shopping excursion, Skype lunch break with Mom and Krystian, and dinner with my love in between. My head is spinning. I drove through a red light in the evening, on my way to dinner. Not a good sign! But three manuscripts are at a critical production stage and there is lots of other work on multiple projects, so no wonder. Yet, not a good sign. Deep breath, sleep. Tomorrow will be slower and more relaxed. There is a birthday to celebrate!

No photos today. Just a tired good night.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: 31 August

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

— @HaggardHawks

909

A night of nausea and suffering – I ate some leftovers which perhaps I shouldn’t have and paid the price. It took a long time to get going in the morning, especially on a cold and rainy day, but eventually I got my act together and put in a solid day of work at the computer (in bed, with catssistance). I don’t feel entirely recovered yet, but I think I am going to sleep tonight.

Bin day, and again no collection. And these are the people who used to manage to collect refuse even during holidays which fell on a Monday. Uncertainty prevails. This is just one of the numerous symptoms. It is impossible to assess yet what consequences the pandemic will have on just about everything. The excess deaths in South Africa have risen to disturbing numbers. One doesn’t really know which statistics to orientate oneself by. It seems as if the worst is behind us, but maybe that depends on which province you live in and how much you are forced or/and prepared to risk.

I am going out of the house with more and more ease, but I am happiest when I am at home next to a fire my love made for me, reading, with purring cats all around. (And now that my Harry Bosch collection is nearly complete and my binge reading is well underway, I feel safe in my oysterhood.) But, there are also friends and travels and wonderful experiences waiting – and with so many people trying their best to operate within safety precautions, it doesn’t make sense to live in constant paranoid fear. It is exhausting in itself.

So, I stumble on.

I will be watching Bulletproof tonight and going to bed early.

Good night.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: 30 August

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

— @HaggardHawks

908Sunday. Not much to report. Luckily. Morning in bed, coffee, reading, breakfast, Cats.

The rest of the day was spent in the company of two gentlemen I rather fancy. One – my love – made lunch and a fire for me. The other – Harry – entertained me in front of the fire for most of the afternoon. I am a happy woman.

A lazy day like no other. As it should be on a Sunday after a long week of work and before another tense one of deadlines and commitments and fascinating literary projects in the making.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: 29 August

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

— @HaggardHawks

904

Occupy Karina.

My day started and is ending with the Cat Ladies in bed next to me, one of them snoring softly. We did some reading in the morning and then my love joined me for a visit at the Alma Café Traders’ Market. Great coffee, three more Harry Bosch books, beautiful fresh bread and divine tzatziki, smoked aubergine pâté and Moroccan lamb stew from Luke’s Larder. I am told that Luke used to be brilliant at theatre making and teaching, and this is where his heart is, he says, but his cooking skills should not be underestimated. The food he sells is fantastic.

Roland came over today, so that we could start working on our project, and we had some of the pâté and the fresh bread for lunch, together with pasta and Luke’s puttanesca sauce. Bowl-licking good. I organised the lounge and the kitchen in such a way that we could easily keep two metres apart and yet enjoy each other’s company and get some work done.

Then I did some work on my own and had Skype coffee with Mom. She had experienced verbal abuse from a woman at the recycling centre near her home earlier in the day and was quite shaken. We both wonder why is it so difficult for some people to simply be polite and kind. Talking about it helped, but I just hate the idea of anyone treating Mom without the respect she deserves. The abusive stranger is lucky that I live so far away and there is a travel ban between our countries …

I spent the evening with my love. We had the lamb stew for dinner and watched TV together. It was a long week of work for both of us and it was just nice to relax and enjoy great food at home.

907

The Daily Maverick is going paper. The pilot edition appeared today and it is looking good. There is just nothing like a great weekend newsPAPER and one can only hope that this one is here to stay! Congratulations to the Daily Mavericks for risking this insane-seeming move, especially during a time of such instability.

I had to drive quite a distance to get it, as it was available at only a few select PnP stores in Cape Town and Joburg, but I will do it again next weekend just to be able to read good journalism smelling of paper. And, hopefully, in time, the paper will become available in every shop that sells newspapers on a regular basis. Although I can imagine that quite a few people will probably consider this a counter-intuitive initiative, for me it feels right and makes me smile from ear to ear. It’s difficult to explain why, but it gives me a lot of hope.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: 28 August

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

— @HaggardHawks

I did not know her. But our literary lives had touched a few times before she passed away much too early. Her death has been difficult to grasp for several reasons. Gisela Ullyatt was exactly my age when she died of breast cancer last week Friday. We shared a publisher (Protea Boekhuis). She was part of the New Contrast team, although we hardly ever interacted. We often liked each other’s images on Instagram. I thought that the cover of her debut poetry collection – Die waarheid oor duiwe – was the most striking cover I have seen this year. Beautiful, haunting. It is impossible to believe that the author of this book will never write another poem again. She should have had at least another few decades of writing ahead of her, and so much more … I am sorry I never met her.

Early this morning, I went to see my doctor to mainly talk about my skin, but I also asked her to examine my breasts and to do a Pap smear. One of the bruises on my arm was worrying me, so I asked her to look at it, too. It felt like an all-round check-up, although it really wasn’t – just an accumulation of medical concerns. I am also seeing my oral hygienist next week (I was supposed to in April, but …). I know what it means when a virus changes your life, what it feels like to drive to the hospital to have a mammogram because your doctor detects something in your breasts that doesn’t feel right, what it is like to walk away nearly unscathed when a freak wave attempts to drown you. Those personal brushes with one’s own mortality … They make you feel fragile, and terribly apprehensive. Because one never knows.

When we came home from De Hoop Reserve after my encounter with the freak wave last week, Glinka sniffed my arm for a very long time. So did Salieri. I told them, Don’t worry – I am okay; I won’t abandon you. But I know that all I can hope for is that the Universe will allow me to keep that promise. No one knows what Fate has in store for us, not now, not tomorrow. There are no guarantees.

We need to make this – this, now – count.

892

After the visit to the doctor, I felt a lot of relief and enjoyed my eggs and bacon (Richard Bosman’s meat products have been great lockdown companions) with a nice cup of coffee. Then it was time for work before my lunch date. My love asked me out to FYN.

And it was amazing. The restaurants itself runs as smoothly under lockdown as their home deliveries had been running before their doors reopened again. Everything feels safe and is perfectly organised. And the food … Just brilliant!

Needless to say, after this feast, I did not have any dinner tonight. And because I volunteered as the designated driver, I was able to complete my work for the day in the afternoon and evening, but now I am really ready for some TV, sleep and The Weekened!

893

These gorgeous proteas arrived today, sent to us by the people of Heilfontein, because we forgot to take our bunch home when we were staying on the farm earlier this month. Such an amazing gesture.

Oysters during the time of Oysterhood.

Good night.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD