Tag Archives: Operation Oysterhood

Operation Oysterhood: 17 October

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

— @HaggardHawks

No milk. I usually don’t mind my coffee black, but I prefer it with a dash of milk, especially in the morning. A bit hungover and exhausted after a doughnut night, I dragged my limbs to the nearest grocery shop and bought milk and cat food. Walking to the shop woke me up and aired my brain. I returned to bed with my huge mug full of milky coffee and read Bosch until it was time for the Alma Café Traders’ Market. Do yourself a favour and have a look at LUKE’S LARDER. The website is new and simply wonderful. And all the food is pure deliciousness. I brought home a few things from the market’s larder, fresh rye bread, vanilla marshmallows and a lemon-meringue pie. I have been eating well all day long …

The rest of Saturday was work, mostly updating the Karavan Press website with author and book details and manuscript work. I washed the dirty kitchen floor and cleaned the guest bathroom before preparing a light early supper for my love and visiting his Furry One while he went back to work. In the evening, I had a loooong Skype chat with Mom and Krystian.

After the magical performance of The Outlaw Muckridge last night, I thought a lot about the theatre today. It is an art form that I grasp as a writer, but the performance aspect of it remains a creative mystery that will forever fascinate me. I can imagine writing another play, but I know that I could never go on stage and act in one. Even the idea of it is completely beyond my capability. But I can never get enough of watching it done, especially when it is done so extremely well.

I will go and see The Outlaw Muckridge again.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: 16 October

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

— @HaggardHawks

My friend Debbie and I at the Baxter: the opening night of The Outlaw Muckridge. It was simply wonderful to be in a theatre again, part of an audience, immersed in a live performance of the best kind. I might have had one shot of tequila too many afterwards to write coherently about the night (or the day), so here are a few photographs:

The creatives behind The Outlaw Muckridge: Alan Committie, Niall Griffin, Louis Viljoen & John Maytham.

What else? I got a few (brief, masked) hugs tonight – my first hugs (apart form my love’s) since the beginning of lockdown. HUGS!

I go to bed a happy woman, tipsy on theatre, tequila and hugs. Good night.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: 15 October

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

— @HaggardHawks

Academic, publisher, writer, Ampie Coetzee, passed away earlier today at the age of eighty-one. He was one of André’s dear friends and I spent many enlightening and entertaining hours in his company. I loved the way he always spoke his mind and did not take any nonsense from anybody. Another great of Afrikaans letters is no longer among us. His insights, words, generosity of spirit will remain in many people’s memories. But it is a small consolation when the heart is sore with yet another loss. This year has taken so much. I think of Ampie’s loved ones and tears roll down my cheeks … Rus in vrede, Ampie!

One of Ampie’s literary ventures was the legendary, courageous publishing house, Taurus. Together with John Miles and Ernst Lindenberg, the first book Ampie published under the imprint was Oomblik in die wind (1975, An Instant in the Wind). And they knew that the censor would be watching … The rest is history, as they say.

What I am attempting with Karavan Press is nowhere near as brave or challenging, but I travel in these footsteps, inspired by people like Ampie, André and the friends with whom they went ‘stealing literary horses’.

Strangely fittingly, together with designer/typesetter, Monique Cleghorn, and author, Joanne Hichens, I visited our printer today to discuss book proofs and the finishing touches of covers. Returning home, I held the new book proofs with the already published Karavan Press books in my hands and knew that I was holding dreams transformed into reality. I still don’t know whether Karavan Press has a long-term future. Understandably, book buying is not on many people’s minds right now. But I refuse to give up and will forge ahead and continue dreaming as long as I possibly can.

I was also at Clarke’s Bookshop today to pick up a review copy of a very special book and I ordered a poetry book from them, which I had hoped would have arrived by now, but is still on its way. I also delivered the proofs of another book to the author, who wrote to me afterwards: ‘I am delighted with my book.’ It will be ready for distribution in early November. I am making the official announcement tomorrow. Karavan Press’s first poetry title. First of many – the next one is already in the making. I am thrilled!

I continue dreaming. And cherishing the people who paved the way before me.

‘Ancient paths. New literary journeys …’

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: 14 October

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

— @HaggardHawks

Beauty in my wild garden.

I slept. That is much more than I can say about the previous night (a complete nightmare). A day of work (again), but a bit quieter, framed by morning and evening visits with my love’s recovering cat, who is feeling better and better and allows me to administer fishy-smelling medication without much fuss while my love is busy working. When I returned home this evening, I sat on my own stoep with Mozart on my lap and we watched (I) / experienced (Mozart, who can’t see) the day settle into the evening.

Traffic is beginning to feel ‘normal’. I was stuck in it twice yesterday and today. Strange after all this time of just driving from one end of Cape Town to another without a care in the world about delays …

A friend who is a regular at my literary salons (suspended since April) called today and we made a joint decision to resurrect the salon. It will be an afternoon garden event with masks and social distancing and whatever else needed by all those willing to attend. Let’s talk books and drink wine together again! The mere idea of it makes me smile.

And last night, the Baxter opened its doors to audiences (yay!!!) with the first preview of The Outlaw Muckridge (written by Louis Viljoen, performed by John Maytham, and directed by Alan Committie). I am attending the premier on Friday and can’t wait!

“A pure act of theatre,” John called the play in a CapeTalk interview with Pippa Hudson.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: 13 October

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

— @HaggardHawks

A day of grief. One of my dearest friends suffered a terrible, unexpected loss. It is difficult to imagine. Yesterday in the afternoon, we still corresponded about other challenges that life throws at one, and then in the evening the tragic news of a different kind arrived. Everything seems so fragile right now. There is all this loss everywhere. And helplessness. And so little hope …

Be kind. Please.

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

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: 12 October

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

— @HaggardHawks

I have lost count (somewhere along the lockdown). And my marbles (somewhere along the day).

They say that today is the two hundredth day of lockdown. They are probably right.

Monday. One of those days … At some stage, it had me eating peanut butter out of the jar with a table spoon. At another, sitting in desperation under a lamppost outside my house, waiting for Godot. I did not cry, but I was on the verge of tears for most of today.

I will blame it on the hormones. And bad luck.

I woke up just after four full of anxieties and couldn’t get back to sleep.

Topolino had to go in for his annual service. In order to meet the commitments of the day, I borrowed a car. An old car. With a tired battery. It died on me right in the middle of it all. The main reason I needed a car during the day, a professional meeting, was cancelled because of Covid-19 exposure, but I was informed about the cancellation only after I’d sat around a coffee shop for half an hour, hoping that the person would show up (those kind of messages never get to you on time, not on a day like today). I had to take a deep breath and reshuffle the busy schedule.

Picking up proofs printouts from my local printer, I encountered my postman (despite everything, one of two highlights of the day). By then, I had already seen the postcard he’d dropped into my postbox (with a picture of a cow on an Austrian Alm – from my brother, sent in June!) and thanked him for it. We spoke a bit about the post office and both despaired a little bit, but it was just so nice to talk to him.

The professionals I phoned to help me with the dead car battery let me down. When I finally got Topolino back, I tried to revive the battery myself, but Topolino is small, with a small battery, and we just couldn’t manage on our own. Eventually, my Lovely Neighbours came to the rescue, with their powerful car that got the dead one at least into my garage. I don’t know what I would do without these amazing people living next door. I just adore them – the perfect neighbours!

But they have had some sad news, and thinking about it is not easy. These are crazy times. And many of us are vulnerable in ways that are difficult to articulate.

There was more sad news from another dear friend. She is hardly coping with the situation that life has dished up for her. And there isn’t much I can do to help, but I will try to visit her during the weekend. We will go for a walk.

In all of this strange chaos, I bumped into a woman I met a few times a long time ago. She said that she’d read The Fifth Mrs Brink during a very difficult time in her life and the book made her think of love and what she wanted for herself in her life. Reading the book was like a catalyst for change. She is now in a new relationship and a completely different space in her life and she said that my book played a role in the transition. That’s the power of books. And it makes me tear up (in a good way) to think that something I wrote had such a positive impact on a near-stranger. Literature works in mysterious ways.

I am monstrual, beyond tired, and all I want is a bath, my next Bosch novel and a glass of pink wine. I will have to search my empty fridge for proper food, because one can’t live on peanut butter alone.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: Emperor of Clay Rafael Nadal XIII

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

— @HaggardHawks

Rafael Nadal wins his thirteenth Roland Garros title, his twentieth grand slam title!

“My everyday professional battles might seem insignificant in comparison but they are no less real. Watching tennis in such moments gives me strength to face my own weaknesses. And it was Nadal’s on-court magic that lured me to the sport. When he was out with injuries in 2009, 2012 and 2015, I continued watching and cheering, but something was missing. A healthy and competing Nadal at the top of his game makes my own work easier and more worthwhile. True greatness has the power to inspire beyond its own discipline.”

— The Fifth Mrs Brink, p. 109.

We have been in lockdown for TWO HUNDRED days!

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: 10 October

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

— @HaggardHawks

Not the best of nights, but I have been sleeping with Mama TV for soothing background noise for quite a while now again, so I just allowed the TV to do its magic again and return me to the land of dreams when I woke up suddenly in the early morning hours.

The day began with Cats and Harry, and it will end with them, all waiting in bed already. From ten to five, I worked on a manuscript with an author. We just had a brief break for lunch. Then dinner with my love and some catching up with our lives. This is a crazy time for us both, and even though we manage to see each other every day, it is never for long. We need to last in this state for two more weeks, and then this intense period of work will be over and life will go back to a more relaxed pace. (I hope.)

Sweet dreams, Everyone!

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: 9 October

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

— @HaggardHawks

My first lockdown visit to the Norval Foundation. I have an annual membership and just love the place. Today was another crazy day full of work and stress, but in the afternoon I wanted to have a look at something at the museum and had a quick glance around the exhibitions and the garden – bliss! I will be back as soon as possible to enjoy every single piece again: Jackson Hlungwani and Zanele Muholi must be contemplated without time pressure.

My work day ended just before six, in time to see the tie-break that catapulted Rafa into his twenty-eighth grand slam final. My tennis-heart is full.

My love has been incredibly busy and is as tired as I am (if not more) after this intense week, but tonight we went on a dinner date to The Hoghouse – one of our favourite places. Throughout lockdown, we have been loving their delivery and takeaway options. It was wonderful to finally sit down at the Hoghouse Café. I am deliciously full as I type.

And happy. And tired. And ready for bed.

But I am not going anywhere before noting that the SSDA longlist for the theme of DISRUPTION (how absolutely fitting this year!) has been announced and it is as exciting as ever. Congratulations to all the writers and to Rachel Zadok, the founder of SSDA, who will be editing the next SSDA anthology! I LOVE being part of this project: literary joy of the purest kind.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD

Operation Oysterhood: 8 October

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

— @HaggardHawks

I think Salieri missed me yesterday when I was looking after another cat and she spent most of today following me around (she is sleeping next to the keyboard as I type). The photograph above was a bit of an accident when I surprised her while we were reading in bed earlier in the afternoon (I know what a privilege that is – calling reading in bed work!). Her expression says a lot about the bewilderment I feel about this highly productive and satisfying, but also exhausting, day. I know I have just had a holiday, but I need another one already.

I was still awake at one in the morning last night, but not long enough to watch the debate live, so I watched the recording when I woke up after a short sleep. What can I say? The Fly and Fly Twitter stole the show. I had a great laugh before my first coffee of the day. I needed this: laughter. Otherwise, the only thing left is despair.

On a tiny, personal level things are developing in the right direction. It often feels like treading water, but we are nearing the two hundredth day of our local lockdown, worldwide way over a million people died because of the coronavirus, and our economies … well, you know. Most of us feel some kind of pain that is unimaginable to others.

A friend told me today that her phone fell and the screen cracked, but in the larger scheme of things, she just shrugged it off and is ‘reading through a cracked screen’. That phrase could be applied to all of us, to this year. If 2020 wrote a memoir, it could be called READING THROUGH A CRACKED SCREEN.

I have proofread three typeset manuscripts in the last while – all beautiful in ways that not even a cracked screen can deny. It is a survival strategy; to continue, to nurture beautiful things.

Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.

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

— NICD