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

— @HaggardHawks

Yep. Fifty.

Last night, another three hours on Skype with my friend Michela. Girls’ talk. We met at university in 1996. She was the South African pioneer in our department. I followed in her footsteps. She still teaches SA literature at the university in Vienna. A love impossible to deny or forget.

I think my headaches might be the result of too much screen time. I slept through the night, but had important Karavan Press admin to get through in the morning, so I got going shortly after waking up. With lots of coffee. Lunch, some more emails, more work, and then a short visit with a cat who had an operation yesterday, but her only human is an essential worker and could not look after her in the afternoon, so I offered to check up on her. She was all fine, purringly happy to see me.

I read an upcoming poetry collection in the afternoon. Poetry always restores me to myself. Pamela Power asked a few authors to share their favourite rereads with her and posted the results on her Go See Do Reading Matters today:

The Joy of Rereading

I didn’t think of poetry, but yes, I return to poetry all the time. And my all-time favourite poem, by Rilke, still gives me goosebumps, no matter how many times I read it.

Lösch mir die Augen aus: ich kann dich sehn,
wirf mir die Ohren zu: ich kann dich hören,
und ohne Füße kann ich zu dir gehn,
und ohne Mund noch kann ich dich beschwören.
Brich mir die Arme ab, ich fasse dich
mit meinem Herzen wie mit einer Hand,
halt mir das Herz zu, und mein Hirn wird schlagen,
und wirfst du in mein Hirn den Brand,
so werd ich dich auf meinem Blute tragen.

Melissa A. Volker luckily remembered poetry and said: “I re-read poetry. I have a thirty year old anthology and I always read the same poems.  Robert Frost. Robert Herrick, Louis Macneice. Especially Meeting Point. I love that one.” No wonder the descriptive passages in her prose are infused with a poetic sensitivity.

My favourite Aunt is celebrating her birthday today. I am drinking a glass of lovely wine to her health! I hope she was able to celebrate despite everything.

The global numbers are crushing. 4.5 million confirmed infections. Over 300 000 deaths. Almost four times the number of inhabitants of Jelenia Góra, the city I was born in.

Just in case anyone was wondering why we are sheltering in place…

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

“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

Your Honour, the Mermaid made me do it! And I hope that all the Water Spirits of the world, especially of the dry Cape, will forgive me my water-sinning last night. I was desperate.

After the President’s address, which I, unlike many others, found pitch-perfect, I was torn between gratitude and anxiety: gratitude for the now, anxiety for the near and distant future. I understand that it could have been much, much worse, and I am grateful for the lockdown with all its imperfections and blunders, but the high infection and death numbers in the Cape are deeply depressing and do not bode well for our future in Cape Town. Like the President said, every number is a life – a life surrounded by loved ones and dreams. Illness and loss precipitated by something as simple as a conversation with a friend… It is tragic.

Mr Mozart, once again, knew that he was needed and sat with me throughout the address and then watched over me late into the night. He allowed me to kiss his head and hug him after the President had said that bit about kisses and hugs being things of the past…

I watched Cyril Ramaphosa apologise to the nation and felt humbled. I cannot imagine what it must feel to have this burden on one’s shoulders. How does he sleep at night?

I fell asleep sometime after midnight, and slept deeply, but when I woke up just before six a.m., I found it impossible to open my eyes for nearly two hours. One of those days when I did not want to face the world. Eventually, when I did, I was rewarded with the sight of the Cat Ladies sleeping peacefully next to each other at the bottom of the bed. And they allowed me to join them for a while.

Coffee, some reading, and then work, work, work (plus headache) until the end of the day with only a short break for lunch.

My first book delivery of the level four lockdown arrived via courier in the morning, a most fitting title, me thinks…

But the most exciting book news of the day belongs to the breath-takingly beautiful Charlotte!

Helen’s debut novel – sheer joy! One day, soon, we will hold her in our hands, and she will be hugged and kissed and treasured. Even if we won’t be able to hug her author for the foreseeable future – the book will have to stand in for Helen.

Dear Helen, if you are reading this, please know that we will throw a huge party for Charlotte when it is safe and allowed to do so, and we will celebrate in style. Until then, I send you and Charlotte love and some flowers from my Mom’s garden:

Congratulations and HAPPY PUBLICATION DAY, dear Friend!

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

“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

Mozart came to visit late last night, but did not want to stay after Salieri hissed at him from the other side of our TV bed. Sleep came eventually, but not for long. Yet the gap sometime after midnight wasn’t as bad as the previous one. I just listened to the voices on the TV and enjoyed the warmth of my duvet and thought of very little until Morpheus welcomed me in his arms again.

By the time I woke up, the light was bright outside and even though my motivation was not exactly soaring, I got up, made coffee and treated myself to yoghurt and honey in my bedroom bed where a novel I had to abandon for a manuscript (report written and sent today) was still waiting patiently with some beautiful lines:

If their hands should touch as they walked, their fingers brushing as if seeking the heat and scent of each other still on their skin, well – who was to know? Only those two – a secret shared.

I had known her. But that didn’t matter. What was between us wasn’t silence. It was speaking without words. It was breathing without breath.

It was us. It was we. And on we went, together…

I suppose that depends on your point of view… If the truth brings opportunity or merely pain.

This is what happens when a poet writes prose. Thank you, Katherine Stansfield.

I wish I could have continued reading, but a lot of work was waiting today and I had to get going.

At lunchtime, I skyped briefly with Mom and Krystian. He is visiting again and Mom asked him to cut her hair. He did a brilliant job – she looks stunning! Some of us will discover hidden talents in this Covid-19 chaos. Then, I braved the outside world and got into Topolino for a ride around the neighbourhood and food shopping again. The ride was wonderful, the food shopping just depressing. I need to find a less crowded shop next time. It was horrible where I went.

The experience made me think of the latest clothes shopping regulations. I understand that some people need new clothes right now, but I will knit, crochet or darn before I enter a shop without a good reason. I am still wearing some of the clothes I wore when I was a teenager, so I will be fine for a while yet.

I am most excited about all the lovely magazines I bought today. FAIRLADY has an article by Cathy Park Kelly that I have been looking forward to reading, and COUNTRY LIFE includes a Nancy Richards interview with my dear friend Helen – always a treat! And GETAWAY features an article about Poland. Yay! I just need more time for leisure reading again…

After all the hand disinfecting and washing today, I realised how much I enjoy simply washing my hands for a few seconds when it is just me in the house and a piece of chocolate melts in my fingers and I can lick them and then wash them without thinking of life-saving, hand-washing techniques…

The proofs of the next Karavan Press book arrived today, but there was so much other work to complete first that I will only get to look at them properly tomorrow morning. Ooooh, but the book looks lovely at first glance!

A few days ago, I registered for a UCT webinar in the ‘Unlocking COVID-19: Current Realities, Future Opportunities?‘ series with Dr Iraj Abedian and Professor Alan Hirsch that took place today. A strange experience again, but I was interested in the topic, “The economics of pandemics”. Glinka, of course, wanted to be part of the conversation. Professor Hirsch emphasised trust and cooperation in the process moving forward and the phasing out of the lockdown. It all made a lot of sense.

Upcoming UCT online conversations also sound fascinating:

• Wednesday, 27 May: ‘Ethical reporting during times of crisis’
• Wednesday, 10 June: ‘What is the new normal? Future scenarios’
• Wednesday, 24 June: ‘Community leadership in times of crisis’
• Wednesday, 8 July: ‘The role of young, African entrepreneurs during COVID-19’

But now, it is time for another address by the President, and I have my G&T and tissues ready.

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

“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

Small hours blues. Quite a gap in my sleep between three and five a.m. and it was impossible not to feel sadness and anxiety, thinking about the world at that time of the night when everything is a deeper blue than usual anyway. A stranger told me on Twitter to take antihistamines to make me sleep – not that I was asking for advice. Friends commented differently, saying that they also have poor nights, sit and stare at the dark sky outside with a cup of tea to keep them warm. Sometimes we voice our distress to share and not to feel alone; we are not searching for ways of how to drown out our emotions. Reading the stranger’s comment this morning, I remembered many friends and my doctor wanting to give me medication to help me with my grief after André died – I understood their concern, but I also knew that some things hurt because they are meant to, because losing a loved person is so catastrophic that it rearranges your DNA. I also remembered telling the psychologist I was seeing for a while four years ago that, as long as I was coping (barely, but I was), I did not want any medication to dull the pain I was feeling. What I was going through was bone-breaking and it hurt like hell, but the cause of the distress was so horrific that I understood why it was breaking me and intuitively I felt the need to experience it. That agony taught me a valuable lesson I will never forget. I am sorry that I had to pay such an excruciating price for knowledge, but in the end it saved my life and was worth it. We are in the middle of a lethal pandemic – distress, nightmares, insomnia are only a few of the reactions many of us experience when confronted with the enormity of what Covid-19 means for us today and in the future. The reason why I cannot sleep and why I feel an overwhelming sadness at four a.m. is gigantic and valid, and I would be only worried about my response if I felt no distress at all. Fear can be life-saving. Carelessness is potentially fatal right now. Our infection and fatality numbers are rising and it is hard not be feel freaked out.

I slept again until about eight, made coffee in my beautiful rat cup and started work. Another garden walk around lunchtime: I noticed one new plant with beautiful purple flowers has moved into my wild garden. And the sunshine flowers were smiling at me and the delicate ferns reminded me of the time I worked at a florist’s when I was still at university.

Mozart came to say hello when I sat down. As is his usual rhythm, he is gaining weight for winter and his coat is getting thicker. Because of this transformation (much more pronounced in him than the Lady Cats), I call him Winter Version during the cold seasons and enjoy cuddling with him even more when he is so fluffy.

Already during the walk, I felt the weather and atmosphere pressure changing, the day turning grey, but I was still okay throughout lunch and a lovely Skype conversation with the writer Penny Haw. Soon afterwards, however, a headache exploded just behind my eyes, blurring vision and thoughts, and this was a pain I had no interest in experiencing, so painkillers to the rescue. I lay down next to Glinka for an hour and just listened to the radio until the ache behind my eyes disappeared and I was ready to resume work.

The release of the first South African edition of Malibongwe: Poems from the Struggle by ANC Women, edited by Sono Molefe, was announced today. Another stunning title from uHlanga.

That the unborn child
May not see what I see
Or taste what I’ve tasted
This is my journey

(from “I must go: do not mourn” by Fezeka Makonese)

A new uHlanga title always makes me happy. The press and its founder, Nick Mulgrew, have been an inspiration for many years. And this particular book, after its initial publication in exile in the early 1980s, has been waiting for nearly forty years to be published at home in South Africa. And now it is here, finally. A homecoming worth waiting for.

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

“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 looooong working day. And I survived being put on hold by Telkom for half an hour, trying to get my latest bill sent to me by email. All other options (text, website, Twitter) failed miserably, so phoning was the last resort. Once I got through to a human being, the matter was resolved within two minutes. I know that this has been the way of the twenty-first century – reducing face to face customer service – and now with Covid-19 nothing will ever be the same again, but I miss being able to go to a counter, speaking to another human being about my problem and having it resolved that way instead of the faceless, often automated kind of help one can mostly expect nowadays. Then, after Telkom, I took a deep breath and dialled another number (fifteen minutes on the phone to Discovery, trying to resolve an issue with a claim – the doctor got paid twice and I got nothing…). This phone call was also a success once I spoke to the nice consultant at the end of the line, but sjoe, I REALLY DON’T enjoy talking on the phone with strangers! It’s sheer torture.

I started work early today, at around 8am, continued until lunchtime and then subjected myself to these two conversations. Walking was the only option afterwards, around forty-five minutes in loops around my garden. It was lovely outside and I felt restored. Then another four hours of computer work. At the end of the working day, a few lovely emails were waiting in my inbox to be answered. Throughout the day, weekend leftovers kept me fed and litres of coffee kept me focused. And Salieri, as always, catssisted by sleeping on one of my books (she is still in the same spot as in the photo above now!).

We sent a book to the printers today! But I am too tired to even celebrate with a nice glass of wine. (Don’t hate me. I grew up in a country notorious for the levels of alcohol its citizens consume. Not feeling like a drink always feels reassuring, especially under our current circumstances.)

Are we expecting any rain this week? I really want to walk on the Common again. Maybe very early one of these mornings before everyone else gets up…?

Current mood:

Bed. Mindless television. Good night.

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

“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 Sunday mostly like this. I did nothing that could be counted as productive, and it feels good.

Another attempt at sleeping in my own bed, which was mostly successful, but I did have a weird gap somewhere between 3.30 and 5am, but was too tired to move and not tired enough to sleep. So I read stuff on Twitter (as one does). But the most interesting comment was sadly deleted shortly after being posted. Luckily, I took a screenshot, but won’t credit the author, since they clearly changed their mind about the text (although it might have been a quote from somewhere for all I know): “Ethics: the branch of philosophy known as economics” (Twitter, 4am).

Nechama Brodie’s comments about media reporting on the pandemic and re-opening of the economy later in the day also struck a chord in a similar fashion: “There have been threads/tweets recently […] pointing out that the groups who are pushing a ‘re-open the economy’ narrative are the ones for whom re-opening is low-risk & high return. Whereas, for many others this may be the opposite.”

I have been thinking a lot about defiance. My life has been marked by it in extraordinary ways since my conception. My parents have an age gap of nearly ten years between them, my Mom being the older partner; they had me out of wedlock and refused to get married for two years, despite pressure from Catholic families on both sides. Hugely uncommon at the time. At their wedding, my Mom remembers, I apparently cried out to her in the middle of the ceremony, shouting, “What are you doing?” Years later, she often told me, “If only I had listened to you.” I grew up in a country where everyone broke the law by simply breathing. That is how totalitarian regimes function. As long as you disobey under the radar – and you have to disobey to survive – and are not a nuisance, you are allowed to continue, but if you dare too much, speak too loudly, and become uncomfortable to the authorities, there will be, obviously, a million things that they will be able to hold against you, because it is simply impossible to lead a decent life without breaking the rules. It’s a vicious cycle. You are damned either way. To escape this, my parents broke international laws by illegally crossing a border when my brother was six and I was ten and by seeking asylum in a foreign country. Those borders did not cease to exist even after the Berlin Wall fell, and to cross them one often had to break many other laws, repeatedly. I was a smuggler in my youth; a pretty good one, although nothing major. Got caught only once, but not entirely because of my own mistake – on my own, I never got caught. I am more ashamed than proud, and I promise you, when the EU expanded and the borders across Europe disappeared, I celebrated the end of that adrenaline life with a bang. There are many ways to break the rules. And there are many reasons why we do it. Now that I am going grey and wrinkled and a little bit of life’s wisdom has begun to sink into the few grey brain cells remaining after endless bottles of pink bubbly, I understand one thing: if you do it, do it for love, or kindness, but don’t break the rules for money only.

There was no rule breaking in the mall I visited today, my first mall since the lockdown. Masks, distance, crowd control, disinfectant – the lot. I had to go into a computer shop and decided to do some advance shopping for the Cats at the same time, so as to use the trip to its full extent. I was also hoping for coffee capsules, but the mall I went to had that particular shop closed. Online order it will be then. I had never been big on shopping. Apart from bookshops and museum shops, I’d found shopping mostly boring in the past, and now Covid-19 has taken away the last bit of whatever small pleasure I might have gotten out of it. The long queues, the fear, the constant vigilance – it’s too much. It was difficult to hold back the tears. But knowing that touching my face would not be allowed until I was back home and safe, I swallowed them.

What helped was speaking to people I love today: my Mom, my love, my brother. I am about to meet my friend Charlotte on Skype. A little bit of gin with Mozart in the late afternoon sun on the stoep was also a joy. We had a rare moment today: all three Cats on the stoep in close proximity without any hissing breaking out.

The Cats have been in physical distancing mode among one another for as long as I can remember. But I am so grateful that they have no problem with being close to me – all the time. In days like these – with a pandemic rewriting the rules of our human social interactions – the company of Furry Ones is one of the greatest blessings. (Salieri has just arrived on my lap as I was typing this.)

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

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

— NICD

Unless you are part of a pride of lions, then you can indulge in closeness and grooming as much as you want.

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

— @HaggardHawks

A long, deep sleep; the TV kept watch. After waking up, I immediately moved to my bedroom with coffee and treats and a manuscript I am supposed to write a reader’s report on. Salieri joined me, of course.

Everything I do needs her paw of approval. We stayed in bed for a long time, reading the manuscript and articles online, watching Wild Earth and just staring into space. This article about Peter Piot was important to read:

‘Finally, a virus got me.’ Scientist who fought Ebola and HIV reflects on facing death from COVID-19

By the time we got up the sun was shouting: ‘Swim!’ We are experiencing an unusually warm autumn, me thinks, because I don’t recall ever swimming in May…

Guess who was waiting for me in the pool :)

dav

The Frog Prince allowed to be photographed, but refused to pose for a selfie! And when I looked into the pool wire where he spends most of his time, I saw a few bees and beetles floating around. Dead. Is this what happens to damsels in distress when they kiss the amphibian? I do wonder what frogs eat… Luckily, a little water rat is still bigger than a frog, and I know what the French eat and have tasted their delicacies before – surely one can find easy frog legs recipes online…

The Cats loved being in the garden with me, during the sunbathing, the swim and afterwards when I tackled the ‘lawn’ mowing. Our ‘lawn’ is as wild as the rest of the garden, so I am not sure it deserves the designation, but it definitely looked more respectable after the trimming.

I celebrated a job well done with a piña colada on the ‘lawn’ and Mozart came to investigate what I was having. I did share my olives with him earlier, but I did not allow him to have a sip, just a sniff. A drunk, blind cat is not a good idea. He settled for some cuddles instead.

Skyping with my love, I could report that my cheeks don’t get sore any longer. In general, my anxiety levels are much lower than even a week ago. Not that my situation has changed in any way, if anything it is becoming more dire as I begin to understand what the pandemic indicates for our futures, but the survival instinct is a powerful drive, and it amazes me every time what circumstances one can actually get used to in relatively short periods of time. One shouldn’t be able to, but one does. Sometimes, it’s the only way forward.

There are always Ribbon and her gorgeous cubs to make one smile. And elephants.

Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. Stay at home. Dream of kisses.

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

— NICD

PS A Lana Del Rey kind of evening.

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

— @HaggardHawks

A TV night with a short gap, but no nightmares. In the morning, Salieri and I watched CNN’s Town Hall with Laurie Garrett, among others, but she was most impressive (I need to read her books!). She spoke about the best case scenarios for our future and the CDC guidelines and I looked them up after the interview. This particular point struck a chord:

Emphasize individual responsibility. Based on emphasizing individual responsibility for implementing recommended personal-level actions, empowering businesses, schools, and community organizations to implement recommended actions, particularly in ways that protect persons at increased risk of severe illness, focusing on settings that provide critical infrastructure or services to individuals at increased risk of severe illness, and minimizing disruptions to daily life to the extent possible.

Watching hippos in the morning was also a good idea. And coffee – always the best idea.

And I have completely fallen in love with Lauren Arthur’s (of Wild Earth) accent (it took me a looooong time to figure out where she comes from – I am hopeless with accents). She used her porcupointer (what a wonderful word!) to explain animal tracks today.

Then it was time for more work, but getting up properly this morning was nearly impossible, so I just worked in my PJs and unwashed/uncombed hair until I finished the tasks set for the morning.

Showered around noon. The day outside was begging to be acknowledged, so I went on one of my garden loop walks to dry my hair and listened to the radio. Mozart and Salieri accompanied me.

For the last few days, I have been smelling something wonderful in the garden and today I identified where the scent comes from. I have no idea what the little tree is called but it smells divine. Mozart obviously also thought so, because he sat among the fallen petals and did not want to come out.

The rest of the afternoon was work apart from a friend testing the safety features of the delivery system for her restaurant and bringing a surprise to my gate. This was so lovely and so delicious that it completely made my day.

When the deliveries are up and running on a full scale, I will write about the restaurant. There are great stories to tell. Hopefully soon! They are also busy organising a soup kitchen in their area. The generosity and kindness of people during this trying time is inspiring.

Another beautiful act of generosity was Nancy Richards’s email today, announcing that the interview she did with me about letter writing a while back was finally available online as a podcast. I listened to it again and wanted to write paper and pen letters immediately, but… One day again!

I don’t mention them by name during the interview, but the friend who sends me postcards is Robert. I wrote to him today via email and sent him the podcast link and warned him not to send postcards for the time being. The other person I mention, the man I worked with, who used to sign his emails with ‘Fond regards’ passed away almost one and a half years ago: Stephen Johnson. I miss corresponding with him – his emails, even the purely professional ones, were a thing of beauty. He was a publisher who knew and loved language.

I have received a few beautiful and moving emails during the lockdown, people taking care to communicate through typed words what cannot be articulated over a cup of coffee or a glass of pink bubbly, or just sharing thoughts and feelings and dreams and fears across space because words have that unbelievable power to bring us closer and to make us feel less alone.

The moment the post office is up and running again, I will write real paper and pen letters again and send them out into the world. It is always such great joy to receive a postcard or a letter in the postbox… The good old days when dinosaurs roamed the world.

Just in case you were wondering: the amphibians are still roaming the earth, or our tiny patch of it. I said hello to the Frog Prince in the pool weir today. He looked at me for a few seconds and dived into the pool. Playing hard to get!

Shortly before the sun went down, I sat next to the pool and read for a while, with Mozart and Glinka next to me. Two doves were parading right in front of us to Glinka’s great interest and Mozart’s non-interest because he couldn’t see them.

Time for bed and Carter. I have recorded the latest episode and will watch before falling asleep. The show is so silly, but it makes me laugh out loud all the time. And I am always grateful for laughter. It makes almost everything bearable. Even this:

“The virus will continue to circulate in the world regardless of whether or not there’s a vaccine unless we’re committed to a strategic goal of really getting rid of the virus from the planet,” says Laurie Garrett, the author of The Coming Plague (1994).

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

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

— NICD

(But it is totally allowed to dream of kisses. Always.)