Sunday, 10 November 2024

Goodbye to the West Country

Once again, thank you so much for all your lovely comments on my last post. Jos is doing well and getting better day by day, although I guess it will be some time until everything is back to normal. But although the latter might have received a bit of a battering and changes are still ongoing - which, as an HSP person I'm not finding particularly easy to deal with - our resilience has rather caught me by surprise. 

As I was writing my last post, I was reminded of the fact that in the past blogging has more than once saved my sanity, and in fact my heartbeat instantly slowed down as I sat in front of my PC and shared my thoughts and feelings with you.

For obvious reasons, no outfit photos were taken, nor did we embark on any adventures during the past few weeks, so I think I'll just continue where I left off, and take a couple of trips in the time machine back to before our lives went pear-shaped.


As I still owed you the final episode of my travelogue, why don't I start with that?

Admittedly, I had to rewind and reread my previous travel posts to get back into the moment. What with everything that has happened since, it's a bit like looking through a pair of inverted binoculars, shrinking and slightly distorting my memories of our week away. 

Anyway, here goes ...

We've arrived on Friday the 6th of September and, after treating us to a blustery and granite grey day at the seaside on Thursday, the weather gods had now dropped all pretense at good behaviour. 



According to our weather app, there wouldn't be any let-up in the rain any time soon, which meant that we would have to get our thinking caps on. After all, having spent the first week of September in the area since 2012 we had exhausted most of its wet weather options. 

But fear not, we did find exactly what we were looking for at the Bakery Museum on the outskirts of the town of Veurne, about 30 minutes from our cottage.

The rain clouds were taking a breather as we arrived, so that we managed to make it from our car to the museum's entrance without getting wet. Once inside, I donned apron and baker's hat and briefly joined the line-up of Confiserie Vanbelle's personnel.



The museum is located in the former buildings of the 17th Century Zuidgasthuishoeve, one of the guest houses in Veurne which used to care for the poor, the sick and the elderly.

The museum, which is recognized as a regional museum by the Flemish Community, opened its doors in July1985 and has undergone a major renovation and expansion in 2001. 




The museum's collection comprises a mind-boggling 24,000 pieces relating to the baking trade and baking culture in Flanders from the 19th Century to the present.

The collection was started in the 1970s by Walter Plaetinck (1931-2018), a travelling salesman who collected the materials from the hundreds of bakers who were his customers.



As well as everything to do with making bread, the museum displays ice-cream, speculaas and chocolate moulds, waffle irons and other baking equipment. 



There's a replica of a 1960s bakery shop, where you can listen to the latest gossip, or you can take a look behind the scenes in the baker's pantry, where you can marvel at the array of ingredients and try your hand at a scent guessing game. 



Afterwards we sampled some strawberry tarts accompanied by the ubiquitous cappuccinos in the museum café.

Having finally run out of steam, the rain clouds had decided to call it a day after we arrived back at the cottage, offering the perfect opportunity to show you my outfit.




My favourite denim maxi skirt was joined by a Finnish peasant-style blouse - both picked up from Think Twice - and a charity shopped orange Zoë Loveborn cardigan. My necklace was charity shop find too, while the green stretchy belt with its faux-bamboo buckle was last Summer's sales bargain.


We were happy to see that hop-picking had commenced in the hop field across the road, the proceedings of which we watched from the comfort of our first floor perch for a while. 

Later that evening the sun, who had been conspicuous by her absence for days, finally managed to get a look-in, painting a golden glow on the horizon just before going down.



All that moisture had left a misty morning in its wake, which the sun soon made short shrift of, promising a perfect Summer's day. 



The temperature was on the up from Friday's mediocre 18°C and would climb to a balmy 23°C by the afternoon.

We had plans for that afternoon - the only ones which were set in stone that week - but as we had oodles of time to spare in the morning, we decided to go for a walk in the woods.



I've lost count of the number of times we've been for a walk in the local Helleketelbos, which is about 10 minutes drive from the cottage. However, one way or another, and in spite of the numbered markers and handy map, we always manage to get lost here.

Knowing this, we threw caution to the wind this time and started our walk on a path we'd never taken before. One which wasn't indicated by a marker ...



Although this should have been a recipe for disaster I'm happy to report that we didn't get more lost than usual. We might not have ended up where we thought we would, but we soon came across some of the landmarks we remembered from our previous visits, such as the tiny half-timbered cottage (two collages above, bottom right). And no, I didn't add a photo from one of our UK holidays by mistake (above, top left). 



While walking on one of the main paths, I noticed a flash of bright orange in the undergrowth of the woodland to our right. Thinking it must be some kind of fungus, we decided to investigate and clambered through the thicket of unruly shrubs and thorny bramble stems. Might this be Orange Peel Fungus (Aleuria aurantia), I wonder? 

Later on, we spotted this peach-lookalike specimen on a tree trunk. My search for its name remains fruitless, so I'm hoping one of my knowledgeable readers might be able to help me out. Kezzie, I am looking at you! 



Having arrived home without any further hiccups, we had lunch and then took a little siësta before proceeding to our afternoon destination, which involved a mere couple of minutes's drive from the cottage: the house of local sculptor and ceramist Lucien De Gheus (1927-2013).

The artist was successful in the post-war fifties and sixties, his main oeuvre consisting of sculpture,  ceramic objects and bas-reliefs. The peak of his success was reached at Expo 58, the 1958 Brussels World's Fair, where he won a gold medal for ceramics.



Right from the start the house, which was built by the artist himself, was meant to be a sculptor’s home, with a large and high hall/exposition area, a heatable winter studio and a summer studio with high windows to the north to let in neutral light.  



Lucien and his wife Suzanne moved into the house in August 1962 and stayed there until their deaths. The “Gheuzenhol” (transl. Gheuze's hole), as the artist called his home, exudes his soul in every corner and keeps fascinating visitors to this day. The house is a  sample of all the artistic disciplines he excelled in: stained glass, paintings, glazed floor tiles, ceramic windowsills, furniture and chandeliers.



By will Lucien De Gheus left his house and possessions to the foundation Private Stichting Lucien De Gheus – Druant, in order to open up his artistic legacy to the public. 

He also stipulated that the foundation promoted contemporary art by organizing Summer exhibitions in the Museum House. This year's exhibition was called Fuga's en Pimpelmezen (transl. Fugues and Blue Tits) and I even recognized the work of one of the artists. It's the sculpture two collages above, bottom right, and it's by Sharon Van Overmeiren (b. 1985), whose work I'd admired at Middelheim.



We absolutely loved the juxtaposition of the various works of art with the paraphernalia of daily life as lived by Lucien and Suzanne, who was his muse.

Also, I could have moved lock, stock and barrel into this wonderfully spacious 1960s house.


It's simply mind-boggling that, in spite of having holidayed in the area for so many years, this was our very first visit to this fascinating museum. But it definitely won't be our last!

So, that was it, our September getaway all wrapped up. Finally!

Before returning to the here and now, I'll be taking another couple of trips in the time machine. I hope you'll join me for the ride.

See you soon!




Sunday, 3 November 2024

Checking in

Hello dear friends and readers! I'm back ... sort of!

First of all, thank you for your lovely and heartfelt comments on my previous post, most of which made me cry - in a good way, I hasten to add - to some degree. I cannot even begin to express what your support has meant to me.


I know I more or less promised to keep reading your blogs and try to comment now and again, but  unfortunately this never happened.

At times, it was as if I was living in a paralell world, where blogland felt like a foreign country, one I used to visit many years ago rather than the couple of weeks of my absence.



After a dismal Spring and a decidedly under par Summer, the weather gods decided to treat us to a spell of Indian Summer, with skies of the deepest blue, glorious sunshine and temperatures which at one point climbed to an unseasonable 21°C.

Deep down, my battered brain must have registered all this as I somehow managed to take a handful of photos with my phone's camera while I was going through the motions. Old habits die hard, I guess, even if everything I did was on autopilot.



You see, in the week after I published my last post, Jos's conditioned got much, much worse, until on the Friday of that particular week he was rushed to A&E. Apparently, the antibiotics he got for his UTI hadn't managed to clear the infection, resulting in complications which ultimately lead to sepsis.

His son stayed with him while he was put on a drip and submitted to test after test until finally at around midnight he was allocated a night room in A&E.


Thankfully, his blood values had improved significantly by Saturday morning, when he messaged me to say he'd had a good night's sleep and had even - wait for it - enjoyed a proper breakfast. 

While I was visiting him that afternoon, he was moved from A&E to a room on the urology department, where he would stay until the end of the week, getting better and stronger every day. They actually wanted to send him home earlier but there was no way he would be able to tackle the dangerously steep staircase up to our first floor bedroom so that we needed to find a way around that first.



My days were a whirlwind of ticking tasks off my to-do list, working half-days at the office, then rushing home for an hour and a half before taking the bus to hospital. And although Jos's condition continued to improve, I kept lying awake with worry half the night.

The hospital, designed in 1975, and ultimately opened in 1979, is a typical 1970s concrete structure, juxtaposed with imaginatively planted green spaces, which I couldn't resist photographing while walking along its endless corridors to Jos's third-floor room.




It was obvious that Bess was confused and missing her Dad. She slept on my bed for most of the night and insisted on napping on my lap as I lay trying to read on the sofa. 

I'd started Slammerkin by Emma Donoghue but it was more than my brain could tackle, so I selected some easy feel-good reading from my pile in the form of a Maeve Binchy novel charity shopped in Shropshire.


After much head scratching, a solution was found for the sleeping problem, so that Jos would be able to come home on Saturday. 

It was decided that a hospital bed would be installed in our dining room. Having a small and full to bursting home, this posed some logistical problems, as it meant we would have to put our dining room table and Lloyd Loom style chairs in storage. Enter our lovely neighbours Wes, Michèle and Karin, who helped me dismantle the tabel and take it, as well as the chairs, to Karin's spacious garden room.



Although initially it looked quite sterile and unappealing, I managed to make things look cozy. So much so that Jos now has to share his bed with Bess! In fact, I think it might be her current favourite spot as she is reclining on the bed as I type!



As I don't drive and the nearest supermarket is just under a kilometer away, I am now the proud owner of an upmarket shopping trolley which, now that Jos is able to drive again, might soon become obsolete. 

I still did the honours last Sunday, which was his first full day back at home. I even made a slight detour to the local park along the way, as obviously I needed to thank the lady in the shrine for her good works!



For the first time in weeks, it actually felt good to be alive again, so that I could finally enjoy the glorious sights and scents of Autumn.

We even went for a short walk up the street that afternoon ...


Fast forward one week, and things are definitely on the up, although there will still be a long way to go.

The main thing is that Jos has got his lust for life back and is eating like The Very Hungry Caterpillar :-) All the rest, I'm sure, will follow, step by step.

If all goes well, I'll be back to blogging regularly, starting where I left off, which are the final two days of our September holiday. I'm sure it will be weird going back in time knowing what I do now...

I'll also try to comment on your posts as soon as. Thank you so much for bearing with me, i's good to be back!