Wind was blowing, time stood still

As from today, Belgium is in lockdown again, with non-essential shops as well as hairdressers and the like having to close for six weeks. Cafés and restaurants were already forced to close two weeks ago. On top of this, social contacts have been further limited, with each household being allowed to have one close contact only. We can only invite one person inside our homes, which has to be the same person throughout, while outdoors the existing rule of maximum four people remains in place, all with masks and distancing, obviously.

None of these restrictions will make much of a difference to the way we have been living our lives these last seven and a half months, except that our newly regained charity shopping expeditions are once again off the cards. And as beret and woolly hat time will soon be upon us, #Coronahair won't be too much of an issue this time around.

Admittedly, rules aren't anything near as strict as during Belgium's first lockdown back in Spring, but still it seems that time is not just on a standstill, but going backwards, with the time machine stuck in an endless loop, doing the time warp on repeat.

But first let's go back to two weeks ago, when on Sunday we resumed out cat-sitting duties at Jos's son and daughter-in-law, those lucky so-and-so's who were away to the seaside for the weekend. 

That morning, I selected this new-to-me skirt from my wardrobe for its very first wear. Made from jersey polyester, with trails of red and off-white roses caught between off-white diagonals, it was another one of my Think Twice birthday trawl finds.

I picked up the red with yet another Think Twice find, this one dating from several years ago, a tomato red blouse with white bobble trim at its collar and yoke. To this, I pinned a vintage floral brooch featuring an arrangement of Alpine flowers. Further accessories included a blue and white beaded necklace and ditto striped plastic ring.

One of my favourite stretchy belts came out to play again, its multi-hued buckle unifying all the colours. My navy ankle boots were a retail buy from a local shop called Lovely Shoes back in the mists of time, while the grey and blue floral cardigan was a recent charity shop find.

Speaking of grey, here's the gorgeous but haughty and possibly plotting Abby again! We had probably woken her up as initially there was no sign of her, until she appeared sleepy eyed on the stairs leading down from the top floor. 

Still on the subject of grey, it was one of those days, dismal and miserable, without any gaps in the solid blanket of clouds.

But whatever the weather, there's still a colour fix to be had by looking through our kitchen window. The passageway patio plants are still flowering profusely and a sea of Busy Lizzies are keeping the wondrous Toad Lily company.  Only a couple of days later the latter was looking much less appealing, as something had been nibbling both its leaves and flowers. With silvery trails on the crime scene, snails are high on the suspect list!

Typically, Monday being an office day, it was reasonably sunny and not too cold, so I made the most of it by running an errand during my lunch break.

However, all traces of sunshine had disappeared by Tuesday, the weather and its fickleness matching the mood I was in.

Nothing my colourful wardrobe couldn't fix though! Especially not with an old favourite like this  purple and lilac floral frock, which happened to be one of my earliest vintage finds ever. Sunshine was provided by my ochre yellow beads and opaques as well as the sunburst brooch pinned to my dress's dropped collar.

The cardigan - or perhaps it's a jacket - is H&M by way of the charity shops back in September and offered a contrast in both colour and pattern. My burgundy boots were a darker shade of the same colour.

We were out of bread mix, so we drove down to the garden centre which, oddly as it sounds, has an excellent baking department. We also picked up a supply of garden bird seeds and two hanging pots of pansies. The latter were roped in to replace the declining strawberry plant and the hanging basket of Petunias, which had never properly recovered from our week of neglect while we were gallivanting around the west country.

In spite of the drizzle which had started to fall as if on cue, I hung them up immediately. Look at them presiding over our rather soggy looking garden!

On Wednesday morning, I could hear the rain tick-tocking on our skylight as soon as I woke up. The day was fraught with obstacles, starting with having to avoid the motorway on the way to work, as we noticed a queue ahead. Driving to Antwerp on the secondary roads was reasonably stress-free but I still arrived at the office much later than usual. 

Around midday, while the rain had stopped and the sun had come out, the wind dramatically picked up speed. Returning from my lunch time walk around the block, I had to lean into the buffeting wind which almost blew me off my feet.

On our way home in the car that evening, I was mesmerized by the sight of the newly built province headquarters, the almost but not quite yet bare trees swaying in front of its outlandish triangular window, looking for all the world like a giant with multiple, dolefully staring, eyes.

On Thursday, I woke up to a sunny day, and felt strangely refreshed and calm.

Even the ominous newspaper reports that rules might yet again have to be strengthened and that there might even be some sort of lockdown looming on the horizon could not get me out of my equilibrium.

While Jos was doing a food shop, I sorted out my collection of opaques, putting the ones in use into two transparent plastic containers so that I can now see what I've got at a glance. Then I filled two spare plastic baskets with packets of unopened ones, with a row of those in traditional flat packing lined up on the bottom of my wardrobe. I'm in the habit of picking them up in charity shops whenever I get the chance or bulk-buying them in the sales, so lockdown: I am ready for you!

The day's outfit was built around my recently acquired green and white patterned woollen skirt. For some reason, I struggled a bit to find a suitable companion before deciding on this yellow, black and white retro print blouse by French brand Mademoiselle YéYé, a charity shop find in July 2019.

I'm surprised by how orange the opaques I'm wearing look in the photos, as in real life the colour is much closer to that of the blouse! 

First wearing of the sage green ankle boots I bought earlier that month. 

I accessorized with a green enamelled butterfly brooch, a red, black and cream marbled ring, and an unstructured burgundy belt with round buckle. A burgundy fluffy cardigan was added for braving the outside world.

After lunch, I went out into the garden and emptied the contents of the redundant hanging basket, as well as some other plants which had finished flowering, into the compost bin. Then I sorted all the empty terracotta pots by size, and put them away into the potting shed, ready for next year.

Wednesday's gale force wind had unfortunately made a casualty: the top heavy cluster of Fuchsia bells which were about to burst open had been torn off completely at the root. How sad!

The blushing Chrysanthemums (top left) have all wilted by now, but the hardy Geraniums, Nasturtiums and Salvias are still refusing to give up, supplying the last of the bees with some well-needed nectar.

As for our giant Fuchsia magellanica bush, I'm sure it will hang on for a while yet, as it's not uncommon for it to bloom well into December.

Doesn't it look heavenly against that timeless blue sky complete with cotton wool cloud, the only sign of so-called civilization the vapour trail left by a plane high above?

I'm wishing all of you who are about to go into another lockdown lots of courage. The main thing is that we all stay safe and sane!