Days 82 & 83: Turning Mishaps into Masterpieces

If for nothing else, this lockdown has taught me to utilise my kitchen. I am not going to lie – if The Cave didn’t come with a dishwasher included in the rent, I would be living in PB&J sammies, served on paper plates and drinking my coffee out of a paper cup.

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Dreams Do Come True

Depending on one’s personal beliefs, one may believe in Karma – that things happen to you because of what you did to (or for) someone in the past, or that everything happens in a perfect time pre-ordained by God, or that something is a mere stroke of random luck.

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My Time is Now

So, during this week I joined Yasmin and her writers’ group for a historical/ghost walk through town. I’ve lived here for 31 years and some of the things I saw for the first time, only because they were pointed out to the group. Just goes to show, as people, we’re not as observant as we’d like to think. I did get spooked when someone closed a window above us while we were being told the tale of a soldier that allegedly haunts a former hotel after being stabbed in the stomach.

The story that stuck with me though is that of Louisa Ann Delbridge (aka Popsy) who in 1887 was raped and murdered at the age of seven. Her body was found in the grounds of a local church. The perpetrator, William Matfield, who was married, with four children of his own, confessed and was condemned to death. While I didn’t say it, I immediately thought: how history repeats itself. I remembered the report of a murder in 2005 where the victim had also been found church garden, and of all the crimes committed against women and children (particularly those trusting little souls that don’t have the instinct to know something bad is going to happen). It not only maddens me, but saddens me tremendously. Part of me would like to understand what drives someone to do something so inhumane; so diabolically evil, and the other part of me is incredibly grateful that I don’t.

Anyhow, enough about the darkness that lurks in our society, and onto something happier.

One of my favourite people, Melody, surprised me with a text last night, letting me know she’s in town, so we are going to get together tomorrow night for a catch-up. I last saw her in July last year when she, her hubby, some other friends and I had dinner. Seeing her is tonic for the soul. We have the kind of friendship where we don’t talk for months, but when we see each other, it’s as if not time whatsoever has passed.

Further in the future, 42 days and a few hours to be exact, I depart on my dream-come-true holiday to Victoria Falls. I got confirmation of the extra excursions I booked and paid for them, so shit’s getting real! I’ve been watching YouTube videos to get a feel of what I can expect and I’ve already cried. I will probably bawl my eyes out when I see the Smoke that Thunders for the first time.

I was chatting to Elena over sushi about all my plans and she said she is happy for me because I’ve worked hard for this and I deserve it. And you know what, as conceited as it sounds, I do! I am going to soak up every second and be in the moment from the time I walk across the tarmac to board the plane in George (yes, our airport is that big!) until I get back home almost a week later.

I’ve decided that my new motto is going to be Life’s for Living. I’m going to do what makes me happy, because for too long I’ve just existed, or lived vicariously through others because of fear. Another friend of mine, Tyron said when I turned forty “Something changes, you look at life differently and your perspective completely changes” – he is right. My time is now! Watch out world, this Misfit may be reflective, but she’s also Fabulously Forty.

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