If you’re new to this blog series and don’t know what’s happening with South Africa’s 21-day lockdown, my first post has all the details. Or read all my lockdown posts.
It’s Day 10, people. Double digits. We’re nearly halfway there (hopefully).
Today is so much better than yesterday.
The rain stopped and the sun came out. I walked two kilometers in circles around the house. I unrolled my yoga mat in a sunny spot and attempted abdominal exercises as the Melville Cat made every effort to thwart me by stretching out between my legs and arms. I didn’t mind at all.
I swept the pool, took pictures of pretty flowers, vacuumed, knitted, did laundry. I luxuriated in the knowledge that it’s Sunday, and even in normal times I would have very little of to do on a day like today.
Lockdown is immeasurably more tolerable – more normal, somehow – in pleasant weather.
Around lunchtime, the gate bell rang. “My name is Shamus,” said the man on the other side of the gate. “Do you have any food, water, or clothing?”
I assembled a few non-perishables – instant noodles, Salticrax, canned tuna – in a plastic Woolworth’s bag, and climbed onto the wall next to my driveway. “I’m going to throw it over, " I called. “Be careful, there’s a can in there.”
“Okay,” said Shamus. I could hear the happiness in his voice. “I’m ready.” I tossed the bag over the wall, careful to clear the electric fence. I heard him catch the bag. I never saw his face.
“Good luck, man,” I called to Shamus. I hope he can find some hot water and a can opener.
I’ll buy more food for people like Shamus tomorrow. I imagine there will be many.
Today’s cause is the Witkoppen Clinic, a non-profit health clinic in Fourways recommended by reader Dagmar Kahn.
Witkoppen Clinic serves the health needs of the densely populated informal settlements around that area (there are several) and focuses on issues like HIV, TB, antenatal and postnatal care, etc. Imagine how these services are being impacted by COVID-19.
The clinic desperately needs help with protective gear and other equipment for its staff, and have set up a BackABuddy campaign to raise money. Please help them out if you are so inclined.
I hope you all enjoyed your lockdown Sunday. On to Day 11 – I will go back to my slightly longer and more informative posts during the week.
How have I never blogged about 44 Stanley Avenue, the coolest shopping and dining complex in Joburg, which is only five minutes from my house?
I guess it’s wrong to say I’ve never blogged about 44 Stanley; I’ve mentioned it countless times over the years (see here and here) when writing about specific restaurants or shops that are there. But I’ve never written a dedicated post about 44 Stanley as a destination and it’s about time I did – especially now, with the holidays upon us.
I’ve been dreadfully uninspired lately, struggling to think of anything I want to blog about despite having a long list of great ideas (many of which you, my readers, provided in September). I’m finding it hard to feel positive about life at the moment. But on Saturday Thorsten and I got the chance to visit Indwe Park, an indigenous garden and sculpture park in Braamfontein, and I knew I had my topic for today.
Given this week’s political nuclear bomb blast, it feels like a weird time to publish a light-hearted post about my recent (pre-election) jaunt through the United States. But I’m hoping you’ve have had enough of the U.S. election horror show – I know I have – and are ready (at least temporarily) for some wholesome American travel adventures. If so, please read on about my four-day visit to Maine, the northeastern-most state in the lower 48, with my sister, Susanna.
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It makes me smile, when I see it.