We have had one of those weeks. Sitting down to our afternoon coffee, Colin said: I feel like a punch bag. Oh, Colin. I know the feeling. Except, in my case, I am not quite a punchbag, more like a whipping boy.

Now we all know what a punch bag is. It is a stuffed cylindrical bag, suspended so that it can be punched for exercise or training, mostly by boxers. Now Colin is everything but cylindrical, at times he is a bit stuffed, and being self-employed, he knows all about being suspended, hanging by a very small hook, while waiting for a client to pay. Client in the meantime, is somewhere on a beach in Bali and will attend to the outstanding invoice once he is back at office and has worked through his 2 000 emails in his inbox. All this, while Colin Punchbag Scott is hanging by a hook.

Me, on the other hand, feel like a whipping girl – because I identify as a girl, not a boy. A whipping boy in times gone by, was a boy educated alongside a prince. The whipping boy would receive corporal punishment for the prince’s transgressions. The deal was, young boy would get a good quality education, but in exchange he would get “ses van die bestes” (six cuts, for those who do not know how to use Google Translate) every time prince failed a test or did not hand in homework on time.

But, one can not dwell on these dark moments in time for too long. So, to raise our spirits, we decided that we would rather plan a party.

A party requires a venue, and the venue will be our Meraki House when it is eventually finished. (which should coincide with Clients’ return from Bali, give or take.) A party requires guests. We will have 2 guest lists, Colin proclaims. The first guest list will be an RSVP list. You will be invited, and you can accept or decline. On this list will be all the people that helped us, supported us, trusted us, believed in us, cheered us up, listened patiently to our venting, those that were there for us. Our tribe. The second list will require compulsory attendance, Colin said. This group will not have the luxury of declining. This group will be all those that made it so difficult for us, who put hurdles in our way, created obstacles and delays. They are the ones, who we will invite and say: See, despite all your best efforts, we made it. Fortunately for us, the first guest list will be much longer than the second.

So what to do while we wait for the party day to arrive? One of our favourite spots to escape to when life gets tough, or at the end of a too hot Saturday afternoon, is Benguela Cove. This farm produces olive oil, lavender and wine. Like all good tourist spots they offer tours, dining, an art gallery, a river cruise weather permitting, romantic open air movie nights, bottomless bubbly and all those fine things in life that a beach in Bali could also offer. We, however, go there for that really nice and affordable bottle of Chenin Blanc – the one that gets served ice cold in the most elegant of long-stemmed glasses. On a good day, we sit outside, and on a windy day, we sit inside at one of the big windows. From there, we watch the sun set. Sunset at Benguela is quite different. The mountains there at sunset turn silver, rather than gold. From there you can see as many as 8 mountain ranges, lined up one behind the other. Combine this with a cold bottle of wine, elegant long-stemmed glasses, a cool breeze and gently flowing water lapping at the edge of the lawn. It truly is one of those Life is Good moments.

I am sure that had we sat down with Messrs. Benguela Cove Owners, they too would have many tales to tell. Looking at their venue now, it is hard to imagine that they too had those people in their life that made it difficult for them, for whatever bureaucratic reason they could think up next. But, I know, that I know, that I know, that like them, we too will get there.

One day we will sit at our own big window and watch the sun set over the sea. We will need a very big window to seat all the guests on List 1. We will party well into the night, feasting on the spread my kitchen will produce. List 2 will require very limited seating. On that day – 2^nd list day, however, I hope it pours with rain, with no sea view. The tepid wine we will serve in “Spur” glasses- you know the short, thick stubby ones that bounce when you drop them? And courtesy of Eskom, we may not have electricity on the day, so no snacks. Just maybe some Salty Cracks with tinned muscles and Marmite on them.

I can hardly wait.