I have a morning ritual. Some would say it's unhealthy, but it's what I do. It began when I started Destination Mcgregor and I needed to make time for its social media. Come, Covid and that slot, which extended, courtesy of insomnia, was filled with crypto social. Now, it's a time I reflect on the day gone - yes, it's often just a food diary - that appears. Often though, it isn't. It all happens when I am tucked up in bed next to the sleeping Husband with my feline family.
Yesterday, I picked up my phone and on Facebook, saw a post tagging our longtime helper. C has been with us more than 5 years. She has held me when I wept and didn't know how I would pay her. She is a rock. This post suggested that she was living my worst nightmare.
No. Please. No.
I sent a voice note and went through my mental roladex and remembered her cousin whom I have been helping.
D smartly replied: C had not long recived a call from J's colleague. He works in another town, so spends the weeks away from home. It seems that when he did not appear yesterday morning, they went to investigate. J had died in his sleep. Seemingly of a heart attack.
Then I left C a very different voice note. What could I do? Not a lot, I suspected. She tearfully replied that I shouldn't go to see her: she was going to Stellenbosch. I simply took from her her having to tell her other employers what had happened and that they should not expect her in for at least this, or next week.
Thus began Tuesday. As an aside, I had a very good meeting with my Finnish client and bagged a new client. The first of potentially many projects is content (longish form) for a multinational manufacturer of generic medicines.
All this, tempered knowing that C is living my - and her - worst nightmare. It's one of many conversations we have had. When I spoke to her last night, she said -
"I can't see my way forward. He was my everything."
They have been together for nearly 25 years and married for about 15 of those. Their older daughter (22) was married late last year. The younger, a dancing, 10 year old ball of energy is not taking it in. Although she went with her mother and saw her father as they took him away.
Then, there are financial considerations. C is now the breadwinner.
My heart is breaking. This is a Tuesday she shall never forget. She has a long way to go.
And while all that was happening, I was also wondering how Silver-blonde Lizzie and Silver Mamma Chef were faring. See Lizelle's update for more.
I am counting my blessings. With enormous gratitude.
Until next time, be well
Fiona
The Sandbag House
McGregor, South Africa
Photo: Selma
Post script
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If this post might seem familiar, it's because I'm doing two things:
- re-vamping old recipes. As I do this, I am adding them in a file format that you can download and print. If you download recipes, buy me a coffee. Or better yet, a glass of wine....?
- and "re-capturing" nearly two years' worth of posts.
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Original artwork:
- lastly, graphics are created using partly my own photographs, images available freely available on
and Canva.