weathering it...

I cannot explain how much better the first week of January feels this year in comparison to last.

Last year there was so little light coming down the tunnel, so little reason to feel optimistic. And I'm not even talking about Tr*mp and the storming of the Capitol, just about Cape Town and lockdown and how we never thought we'd get vaxxed or back to any semblance of proper life ever again. We'd never started a year so glum and uninspired.

But here we are. Things are easier. And whatever fuckening might be waiting just down the road, I'm having a moment of deep gratitude for how far we've come and how much easier and lighter things have been this holiday season.

We spent two 4-day stints on either side of Christmas in our favourite Onrus with some of our oldest friends.

And Christmas, Christmas was glorious.

All the sweeter for having spent last Christmas all apart, for being our first time hosting, for everyone being well and relaxed and happy. Magic.

We've weathered this storm alright, all things considered. As have many of my dearest friends, who for a time there looked like they'd never come out the other side.

A friend who got retrenched back in April 2020 has found a new, rewarding, fulfilling, bill-paying job after nearly two years of hustle and high stress.

Another who was facing a failing relationship back then, exacerbated by lockdowns and general weirdness, is happily blissed out with a new partner, after a long time of heartache and self-doubt and pain.

Friends who very nearly lost their home are clawing their way back up the credit-rating ladder, finally able to relax their jaws slightly and step back a bit from the daily anxiety of trying to keep their lives together.

The girls are back to full class, full time, in person school in a couple of weeks. Our curfew, the last of the Covid restrictions, was lifted on 31 Dec. Our National State of Disaster, 666 days old today, is most likely to be lifted soon.

Cautiously, cautiously, optimistic.

in the bleak midwinter

It's day 4 of a 7 day storm, and we're back in lockdown.

The girls just finished school 10 days earlier than planned, booze sales are prohibited again, no gatherings (like, none), no restaurants, no galleries, no museums, 9pm curfew. They kept the beaches open this time, but in this weather this is only really good news for those restaurant owners who can go for a surf to distract themselves from the crippling debt and human cost of having to close their doors. Again.

Ostensibly this lockdown is for 14 days but I mean, we've all heard that one before.

So we're back at home. Except this time I'm also working. Or am I?

I spent yesterday compiling a document which might mean a pause to my current contract, and although it would be pretty shit to lose the distraction, satisfaction and paycheck that comes with actual work - it's also madness to try and put together an in-person event in this ridiculously unpredictable time.

I realised recently that I've possibly reached peak apathy. I just don't really care that much anymore.

I can't think about the future without waves of absolute gloom breaking over me so I just don't. And by future I mean everything from will I ever travel internationally to what options will my children have in this new world to how, with 67% youth unemployment, our country is surely heading down the tubes. See why it's better to just not think of it?

I have never been this apathetic in my life. I'm not even despondent because that would require too much feeling. I just ... have the biggest case of the whatevers ever.

Also an excellent time to have a midlife crisis. I turned 46 in May and it was hard. The actual birthday was lovely - I have the best friends and family - but in the weeks that followed I hit a real wall. But even that is ruined by the fukken pandemic.

As I texted a friend recently: what we've all got is the constant second guessing of all our feelings - do I hate my life or just the pandemic, do I want a divorce or just a vaccine, is this Covid or a normal midlife crisis?

It's all extremely boring actually.

BUT, there are rays of light and my god we need them...

Our big girl turned 14 last month and scored (as she always does) a beaut of a still, warm, winters day to have lunch out with her besties and cupcakes on our deck. After her tiny 13th celebration last year this was a big win, especially in light of our current restrictions.

The sun comes up every day (not much evidence of this the last few days tbh but ja, still she rises) and reminds us that we live in a beautiful place.

We have the most ridiculously lovely and infuriating collection of pets to comfort and entertain us.

In our home there is art, and beauty, and kindness, and love, and delicious food - and this, in the end, is the thing which must be enough for now. 

Just un-wedgie your big girl panties and get on with it girl.

pandeversary

Thurs 25 March

It's warm, hot actually, and perfectly still outside. Not a ripple on the lake save those from the departing tail feathers of a lazy water bird.

It's Lockdown Weather (I think we might always call it that), and it feels uneasy.

Is it okay to claim PTSD if nothing really, really bad happened to you? Or is living through a lockdown, a pandemic, bad enough?

For like some kind of PTSD this feeling the last few weeks has been one of caution. Lightly skim over the emotions from This Time Last Year and they're manageable, weird but controllable - linger on them and you realise there's some black dogs lurking there.

A few weeks back it was the anniversary of the last day I did my job properly. The last day I spent in a venue with a group of people from various parts of the world, meeting and working together to advance a mechanism to tackle social injustice.

It was as the wave was breaking and things were changing every day. Some of the delegates pulled out at the last minute, opting not to travel. Some wore masks on their flights - the only ones in a packed airplane. The Sierra Leoneans joked that a few years back they were persona non grata (Ebola) and this time it was the Italians. We sanitized the pen in between registrations. The day after the event the WHO declared Covid-19 a global pandemic and the world started closing down. It felt like we'd slid through just as the gate slammed shut behind us.

The anniversary of that day was hard. I deeply miss my work. Yes, the income, obviously - there are few feelings as good as a whack of hard-earned FOREX landing in your account - but more than that, the purpose, the identity.

Similar to when a person dies, or leaves, there's a version of you which goes with them. That Molly has been missing for a year now, and I'm not sure whether we'll ever see her again.

I did a yoga class that pandeversary morning, tears leaking out the corners of my eyes, I came home and prepped for an important birthday the next day. I chuckled remembering how last year I got stuck in my car, full of helium balloons, on the way home from that event, on the other side of town waiting for the power to come back on so I could fill up with fuel and get home - I remembered how I thought that was hard, and frustrating, how trapped I felt then. I had no idea.

Fri 26 March

Every day these last few weeks has been a 'do you remember', a 'this day last year' - the whole world's been doing it. Every emotion is shared, yet also deeply personal.

This day last year we were going into hard lockdown. Today was the last day we could move unrestricted and from midnight tonight we were in what one of my friends recently referred to as Le Grande Slowdown.

Then this was deeply weird and cut through with the strangest mix of adrenalin and uselessness. This year, with some small glimmer of light on the horizon, this is deeply weird and cut through with a mix of grief and optimism. 

Realistically I think my career path has changed forever, and the loss there cuts deep. Idealistically in some ways we are facing a brave new world, and that's exciting. But for now, as we shadow-walk beside the versions of ourselves from a year ago, the emotions are big ones - and we should acknowledge them.

And as always, there's a meme for this...

flu, but not THAT flu

Honestly, what kind of loser gets a different flu during a flu pandemic?

Me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The beaches finally opened, earlier than expected on the 2nd of Feb. And as if the gods had decided to  finally cut us some slack it was the most magnificent summers day. We swam twice!

And twice more that week - long luxurious swims in which the ocean embraced us like a long-lost lover and we couldn't bring ourselves to leave (you say goodbye first, no you say goodbye first) until we finally returned to land with shriveled toes and water-logged ears.

That Saturday we spent at one of our favourite places on earth - swimming and picnicking with my parents (all outdoors) and friends. It was a magical summery day and one of those rare moments in which everything felt peaceful and okay, just for a minute.

And then the next morning - sick.

Fever, chills, body ache, headaches. Restless sweaty nights and fevered dreams, concerns about having infected my parents and the girls not being able to start long-awaited school. The dreaded nasal swab, the wait, a negative Covid test. Wtf?

Help from friends to get the last minute school prep done, infinite patience and care from my lovely husband, long horrible disjointed nights and tedious days moving from bed to couch to bed.

A full week of fevers, another full week of recovery, a gradual return to functionality... I still need an afternoon lie-down, I still can't fathom exercising, or drinking wine, I still get dizzy standing up too fast. Vit B jabs in the butt ('You don't have any extra vaccines lying around do you?' ha ha joke to the clinic sister who's probably heard it many times already). 

That one magical week of summer has gained almost fantasy status in my memory. The weather is icky now and the sea rough and cold. But the summer is not over, good weather and more swims lie ahead.

I just... really can't believe that wasn't Covid? Antibody testing in a couple of weeks I think...

a swim in the sea

Of all the incredible things happening in our lives at the moment - curfew, alcohol ban, academic year delays, mandatory masks (all currently extended until mid February) - the most incredulous must be that a swim, in the sea, in mid summer, is illegal - and a blog-worthy event.

The conditions weren't optimum. In 'normal' times we might have reconsidered.

Foamy, cold, big swell out to sea pushing the current vigorously in and out. A little overcast, a brisk breeze, rumours of blue bottles.

But having walked in, down sandy paths worn in by abalone poachers through high dune brush - quietly past the house of the man renown for calling the cops, quickly past the place where snakes have been frequently spotted - down a long dune, through a hole in the barb-wire fence, finally out on to the beautiful coast path, finally out of sight of the town.

Having walked in, and longed for this for so many weeks, we didn't hesitate.

Gasping at the cold, shoo'ing the foam ahead of us to try and look out for rocks, shrieking at unseen kelp brushing up against our legs, and then we were in.

And it was...profound.

And for all the reasons listed above, I think it was the best swim of my life.

it's in the memes

As per usual I've delayed posting here so long that the mood has changed, the moment past, and now the content no longer seems as relevant.
BUT, having collected and archived and uploaded the very best of Covid memes weeks ago I'm determined to slip this post in.

Covid-19 has not gone away, especially not in this country or indeed this city. Our province of the Western Cape is currently the epicentre of the pandemic in South Africa, and has been for a while.

As with many of my plans for 2020, my intention to wean off memes this year was chucked out the window with the arrival of the Corona virus. In fact it feels like memes have really come into their own.
My criticism of the meme-life (that they are a lazy way of expressing emotions/thoughts/opinions - circulating others thoughts rather than examining and developing your own) are the exact reason they've been so valuable these last few months. So many of our emotions and thoughts have felt too complex to really articulate, too overwhelming or confusing - so when presented with a few words or an image which succinctly jumps straight to the heart of how we're feeling, often making us laugh at the same time - it's been hugely satisfying.

Here are a selection of my BEST - funny, thoughtful, heart-breaking, I need to record this for perpetuity. I wish I had the appropriate credits for each, but I don't.

File Name: General Funny

This one though - kinda more terrifying than funny.

File Name: Children & Homeschooling

I loved this one above though - I do think (hope!) our kids will remember this as a time of great togetherness.

File Name: The Mentals

Shew, the emotional rollercoaster was rough. I say was as I feel way more stable these days - is it acceptance? If nothing else we've learnt how adaptive we can be (kind of good to know we can still do this), but how much of the emotional stability is a return to some sort of 'normality' (because let's face it, nothing is normal) or general acceptance of the 'new' normal? Sometimes I also wonder if I'm not just more numbed these days - a kind of shutdown? Who knows...

File Name: Pets AKA the Great Salvation AKA thank goodness for these guys

File Name: Conspiracy Theories

(could also be filed under General Funny because WTF with these idiots)

File Name: Learnings

This is beautiful

File Name: Relationships

Their joke every time I came back from the grocery store.

Low key for real, as the kids would say.

File Name: South Africa specific

Morning rush hour traffic the first day of lock down: there was none.

Lock down extension.

Even the Sign Language Interpreter horrified.

When we finally got an exercise slot: 6-9am.

All the bitching about not being able to surf or drink when thousands were starving.

File name: For Serious

My god it's been the weirdest, weirdest time.