Karma?

A couple of weeks ago, I looked for a favourite necklace of old large blue glass trade beads strung either side of an antique silver Arabian amulet. It was an indulgent purchase acquired in Nairobi, where I had just spent a week teaching at the International School

Then last week I hunted high and low for my GPS system before setting off for a few days camping on the beach.

When I got home, irritated by my untidy habits which I deemed responsible, I decided to do a thorough spring clean. I didn't expect to find the GPS system which I am pretty sure was knicked out of my car which I never lock, but I did expect to find the necklace.

Twelve years ago, I was expelled from class after my yoga teacher couldn't find some jewelry in her apartment, the class venue. At first I was devastated, but after a few sleeplesss nights, became enraged by the teacher's certainty that I was the culprit. I wrote her a dramatic note claiming that she had accused, tried and convicted an innocent person who had no recourse to prove her innocence, and that the experience had served to confirm my abhorrence of the death penalty! She eventually found the missing pieces and apologised.

I think I know who took my necklace and it's my turn to feel violated by a stranger that I briefly housed. I am forcing myself to remember that I might be wrong, that I might suddenly open a drawer looking for a hankerchief and see it curled amongst rolled up leg warmers. But somehow life isn't quite that neat.

Not sure what the lesson is here, if there is one. Attachment? Bourgeois pettiness? Naivité? Who knows. You just gotta roll with the punches and move on sometimes.

Francesca Woodman

To see more of her hauntingly beautiful imagery, go here.

I might as well stay in bed...

Soulac-sur-Mer

Woke up at seven this morning and cycled into Soulac-sur-Mer. It was market day. There was a wonderful selection of fresh fish and shellfish, the specialty of course being local oysters. (Apparently the "R" rule no longer holds sway in July and August.) Then I visited the the lovely little church that was dug out of a sand dune a hundred years or so ago, downed a kir, and wobbled home on my bicycle and collapsed into the hammock.

Spent this afternoon swimming, in spite of Thabo's constantly trying to drag me out of the waves and onto the safety of the beach. And trying to capture the shimmering late August afternoon sea in watercolour.

Camping à la Catherine

• Unfortunately, my car needed a new fuel pump.
• Fortunately, my wonderful mechanic Lalo was able to fix things temporarily with a screwdriver.

• Unfortunately, someone seems to have knicked the GPS out of my car.

• Fortunately, friend Ronnie lent me his navigation system.

• Unfortunately, my car doesn’t have a cigarette lighter and the GPS ran out of juice just as we got to Bordeaux, the tricky bit of the journey.

• Fortunately, we got here anyway and I was able to pitch my tent just before dark in a quiet spot in the pine forest and Thabo and I were able to take a lovely walk on the beach.

• Unfortunately, the batteries in my lamp were dead.

• Fortunately, my cell phone has a flashlight.

• Unfortunately, I forgot a camp chair and table, air mattress, pillow and bog roll.

• Fortunately, I brought a hammock.

• Unfortunately I didn’t have any rope. And a rock band started up in a disco on the other side of the trees soon after dark.

• Fortunately I did remember to bring fresh white peaches for breakfast, coffee, a coffee press AND a kettle!

• Unfortunately, I forgot a mug…and so it goes.

Nevertheless, as you can see from the picture, it's GORGEOUS here and Thabo and I are having a blast!