Twixmas tales - Part 3

It's hard to believe we're more than half way through January by now. How the hell did that happen? 

So far, the year's first month has been a bit of a disappointment. Forget about the concept of Blue Monday, I'm inclined to introduce Blue January instead. Not only have my stress levels gone through the roof lately, I seem to have succumbed to the dreaded lurgy again, due to which I've been coughing my lungs out since last Thursday. 

OK, that's quite enough of my moaning. Let's return to happier times instead!

My Christmas break was still in full swing on Thursday the 28th of December and, as my previous cold seemed to have taken a backseat for now, I was determined to enjoy every minute.

Helpfully, the weather gods were clearly taking pity on us by sending - oh miracle of miracles - yet another dry day our way. But although the day's highs of 11°C were more than reasonable for the time of year, an at times blustery wind made it feel somewhat colder than it actually was.

I found the raspberry dress, which is sprinkled with tiny white stripes and yellow and white dots, at Episode - part of a Dutch chain of vintage shops - in February 2019. As its fabric is quite thin, with only the skirt being lined, I layered a yellow long-sleeved t-shirt underneath, which you might be able to catch a peek of between the bodice's tiny raspberry buttons.

I refrained from using yellow for the dress's companions and accessories, which would have been the obvious choice. Instead I wore a chunky knit caramel cardigan by Rhétorique - charity shopped in May - and a matching pair of opaques. Both my flower-infused brooch and Murano glass necklace were flea market finds, while the stretchy belt with it faux-bamboo buckle was picked up on the high street in March 2023.

While Jos was running an errand that morning, I took out my sewing basket and attached a loop to the purple and lime coat I found on Wednesday, so that it could be hung up on our hallway's coat rack.

Then, after lunch, we decided to make the most of the dry if somewhat cloudy weather conditions by going for a walk. Our destination of choice: Fort 5 in the neighbouring village of Edegem.

After Belgium gained its independence in 1830, the fear of a European conflict or invasion remained, primarily from the Netherlands and France. In 1859 it was decided by the Belgian government to defend the city of Antwerp by surrounding it with a 15 km long earthen rampart with 19 gates, based on a plan of military engineer Capt. Henri Alexis Brialmont. 

It also had an advanced ring of 8 almost identical brick forts, commonly known as the Brialmont Forts. All the forts, except for Fort 1, are still in existence today, and most of them have been turned into nature reserves and recreational areas, with part of the buildings being used by a variety of local clubs.

Fort 5 is closest to where we live: a mere 10 minute drive is all it takes to the car park near one of the domain's entrances. Immediately upon entering a magnificent view of  the moat opened up, with a mighty blue heron statuesquely perched on a toppled tree.

Instead of taking the obvious route, skirting the moat, we turned left on the path running behind the playground and, after taking another left turn, found ourselves walking in as yet unknown territory. 

We did not worry about getting lost, though, as we could soon catch glimpses of the brick and sandstone fort buildings shimmering through the tangle of trees. 

Then we came across the remains of what we think might have been the main entrance gate to the fort and which, in spite of countless of previous walks here, we'd never happened upon before. 

Beyond the gate, a cobbled pathway lead us to the long row of atmospheric moss and lichen incrusted fort buildings, their woodwork in various stages of dereliction, and carrying the weight of over a century's worth of trees upon their roofs.

From here, we continued our walk along a path meandering through the semi-wilderness (below, top left), until we arrived at a grassy open space. At the other side of this, we spotted a familiar-looking low brick building, which seemed to have burrowed itself into the earthen mound, with eyes half-closed giving the impression of having a thatched roof.

It was then that we realized we'd been here on a previous walk when, with some trepidation, we'd had a peek into the creepy passage lying beyond the arched doorway on the bottom left. 

Now, we only had to round the corner to find ourselves at the water's edge. 

If the weak Winter sun had been making feeble efforts to break through the layer of grey at the start of our walk, she had by now given up all pretence. The sky was darkening as the afternoon progressed and it was only the wind, which had increased in force as we walked, which prevented the rain-pregnant clouds from discharging their cargo there and then.

The world had once again reverted to greyscale, the only colour provided by the bleached wood of the bird hide and the orderly row of ducks who sat looking forlornly at the wind-rippled water of the moat.

The narrow winding path along the moat eventually takes you to the spot where the fort straddles it. Here, the path enters a low tunnel, passes through a handful of draughty cobwebbed and graffitied rooms, and out again at the other end. 

Before entering the tunnel, I briefly paused to show you my outerwear, consisting of one of my favourite vintage coats - on constant rotation with my fur-collared Princess coat - accompanied by a charity shopped yellow double knitted beret and the colourful pom-pom scarf I'd picked up the previous day.

The brooding sky and the wind which was making the branches of the trees ominously creak and moan made us quicken our step, anxious to re-join our car before the weather caught up with us.

Still, although Winter gets a bad rap all around, there's something to be said for these quintessential Winter landscapes, all but devoid of colour and framed by the twisted and gnarled skeleton trees.

We made it back unscathed, and the rain was kind enough to hold off until we were safely ensconced at home. 

The year's final Friday brought grey skies and showers, the mercury still effortlessly climbing into the low double digits

I had this black, grey and red plaid wool-polyester blend dress earmarked for an outing for a while, and I'd even mentally sorted out its companions. Not that I deviated very much from its previous incarnation, worn after I brought it home from Think Twice at the end of 2022.

Its short sleeves almost dictated that I layered something long-sleeved underneath, and this red t-shirt turned out to be just perfect for the job. I echoed this with my red opaques and red elasticated belt with massive square mock croc buckle.

Both the chunky off-white flower brooch and the black and off-white beaded necklace are vintage, the former a flea market find and the latter bought from a sorely missed vintage shop I used to frequent.

A special mention goes out to my fake snake ankle boots, which were a sales bargain from New Look when they closed down all of their Belgian shops in 2019.

After the usual fruit and yoghurt breakfast, Jos did the year's final food shop, while I cleaned up the little kitchen cupboard we found at the indoor flea market earlier that month. It still needs a replacement handle for the yellow door, but it will definitely do for now.

We hung it up in its designated space, which we were relieved to find it fit exactly! Phew!

We currently store kitchen towels and cloths behind the yellow door and packets of tea behind the blue one! There was also some space to put a couple of our vintage tins on top, relieving a full to bursting shelf elsewhere in our kitchen.

The framed print is vintage and a true Flemish classic, admonishing you to refrain from cursing, as God is watching you! We've got two of those around the house, not that we are taking too much heed ...

Twixmas tales - Part 2

I woke up with a head full of cotton wool on Boxing Day.  As congested sinuses had made me toss and turn all night, I could only thank my lucky stars that I didn't have to get up when it was still pitch dark outside and that I could spend the day doing whatever tickled my fancy. In fact, nobody would have batted an eyelid if I'd wanted to spend it lying on the sofa if so inclined.  

Wasn't it just my luck though that I had to be plagued by a head cold during my week off? Admittedly, it was miles better than being struck down by a serious case of the flu like I was last year, but I could still have done without it.

I started feeling a bit better after a healthy dose of fruit and yoghurt for breakfast, after which I had a good old rummage in my wardrobes (note the plural!) in search of the perfect outfit to suit my mood as well as the day. 

No athleisure wear for me, thank you, and God forbid I'd stay in my pyjamas all day!

So, out came this navy blue Diolen dress, its pattern a seemingly incongruous mix of yellow and tan flowers and seashells. 

Blues and yellows were the colours of choice for my dress's companion, a zig-zag patterned Zoë Loveborn cardigan charity shopped back in November. The blue flower corsage I pinned to the latter was echoed by my moulded plastic flower ring. 

My necklace featuring multicoloured wooden disks was bought brand new from Accessorize and has been in my collection for many years. 

The day was miraculously dry and sunny for once and with the temperature still a more than reasonable 12°C, it was clear that the sofa would have to wait another day.

It has long been a tradition of ours to go for a walk in Middelheim Sculpture Park on Boxing Day, even if the weather was determined to put a spanner in the works a couple of times. This year, however, wild horses couldn't have kept us away!

Art has been on the move here all through 2023 and will continue to do so in 2024, as a mind-boggling total of 224 works are in the process of being given a new home. I'm pretty sure that Odyssey (above, bottom right) wasn't in this particular place before. Dating from 1968, it is a work by the American sculptor Bernard (Tony) Rosenthal (1914-2009). 

The hesitant Midwinter sunshine was spotlighting Antony Gormley's Firmament III, which I suspect is among the 50 or so works of art in the park which are inseparable from their location and will therefore remain in situ.

The same will definitely be the case for the make-believe street called Surroundings (1972-1973), an art installation by the Italian artist Alik Cavaliere (1926-1998).

Moving a sculpture that has been anchored in the ground for decades is no easy task. Moreover, they are all unique works of art, each of them requiring its own preparation process, method and approach depending on its materials and vulnerabilities. The relocation of a total of 224 different works of art is, therefore, a hugely labour-intensive job. 

After the transformation, the sculptures will be on display in completely different clusters, inspired by the different types of landscape in the park.

Meanwhile, normal service is disrupted, with some parts of the park temporarily out of bounds, and a not inconsiderable amount of sculptures hanging out together in the adjacent open-air depot before being allocated their new location.

Believe it or not, but the massive tire which has suddenly materialized at the back of the Braem Pavillion is a work of art too: dating from 2012, it is part of  Pièces à conviction (Pieces of evidence) by the Belgian artist Michel François (b.1956). It used to be in the part of the museum called Middelheim-Laag on the opposite side of the road.

Vierkantrohre Serie D (above, top left) by German artist Charlotte Posenenske (1930-1985) has been attached to the side wall of the Braem Pavilion since 2017. It consists of a set of six hollow forms made of galvanized metal that appear to be parts of an industrial ventilation shaft. Very convincingly, it seems, as I only found out this was actually a work of art when I was browsing the museum's online catalogue a couple of years ago.

Bosque Metalica (above, bottom left) has found its new location near the Braem Pavillion as well. Dating from 1971, and thus a contemporary of the Brutalist pavillion, the sculpture which consists of eight separate elements in black, green, orange and yellow, is by the artist Jorge Dubon (Mexico, 1938-2004).

Making a shortcut through a carpet of leaves to avoid a particularly muddy stretch, we came across Artisticus Confusa (2020), a whimsically shaped aluminium flower of nearly one metre tall, created by Tom Volkaert, who was born in Antwerp in 1989.

The gold painted chair is part of the park's furniture. These, and their silver painted sisters can be found all over the park and are perfect if one wants to take a breather or just, sit and stare at a particular work of art, or perhaps even temporarily become part of it.

This sculpture, which I believe is new to the museum, was caged to protect it from the elements. Although I hadn't seen it before, it instantly rang a bell, as it reminded me of the sculpture on display in the courtyard of the 800-year old castle known as Het Steen standing on Antwerp's quayside.

Sure enough, when I looked it up, it turned out to be by the same artist, Sharon Van Overmeiren (b. 1985). It is called The Voyage of the Mascot and dates from 2021.

We ended our afternoon walk in the Museum Café, where we shared a hefty piece of cheesecake, and enjoyed cups of cappuccino (Jos) and hot chocolate (me).

Although more rain had been forecasted for Wednesday the 27th of December, it never materialized. I know, stranger things have happened but still ...

I was rewearing the as yet unphotographed outfit I wore on my last office day of the year, featuring a happy mix of charity shop and retail buys.

The forest green faux suede skirt is an old sales bargain from Mango and an absolute joy to wear. Here, it is joined by a rose-patterned jumper from King Louie, by way of the charity shops. Both the label-less sparkly pink cardigan and the green Les Cordes necklace were charity shop finds as well.

My one and only Christmas themed brooch deserves a special mention, as it was a gift from the lovely Gisela, who blogs under Miss Magpie's Musings.

Apart from the odd sniffle, I was feeling so much better and, what's more, I was craving a rummage at the charity shop. 

We drove down to the three-floored one in Duffel where it was quite busy as it seemed a lot of people had had the same idea. Or perhaps they'd come to donate their unwanted Christmas presents?

Anyway, here's a quick look at what I found. 

Above, from left to right: brown marled knit hat, groovily patterned blouse by Belgian label Claude Arielle, tan mock croc belt by CKS, which is yet another Belgian label, and chunky yellow, white and dusty pink knit scarf with pom-poms!

In spite of my self-imposed coat ban, I couldn't possibly resist this purple and lime patterned one, although the photo doesn't do its colours much justice. To make up for this, I'll be wearing it in one of my next posts!

And now, it's time to divulge which one of my lady brooches turned out to be the bargain of the century.

Ta-dah! I'm sure this isn't the one you expected it to be! Bought for less than € 10 at the indoor flea market a couple of years ago, I only found out its true nature and value by accident in the Summer of 2022 when I was looking up a Léa Stein brooch I'd picked up in a vintage shop in Middelburg.

It turns out that, although not marked, this was a Léa Stein too, and one of her earliest and most valuable at that, estimated between $ 200 and $ 300. It's one of her serigraphy (screen printed) brooches dating from the late1960s and the early 1970s. The most collectable among these are the romantic or nostalgic female portraits, a plastic version of Victorian miniatures, so to speak.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Léa Stein, who was born in1936, she is a French artist and accessories maker known for her compressed plastic buttons, brooches and bracelets. She is often hailed as the most notable and innovative designer of plastic jewellery of the 20th century. 

Stein entered the fashion industry in 1957 working in textiles, and by 1965 had developed an interest in plastic. She worked with her husband, the chemist Fernand Steinberger, to develop a process of layering very thin sheets of cellulose acetate (or rhodoid) and laminating them to form a multi-coloured sandwich of plastic, which was then baked, cooled and cut into shapes. The process could take as long as six months!

Her brooches are avidly collected and generally command high prices and it therefore won't come as a surprise that they are often imitated. 

There's a very interesting and useful Facebook group called Lea Stein Appreciation of which Mme. Steinberger herself is a member and to which she sometimes contributes whenever there is doubt if a certain piece is a Léa Stein original or not.

I will be back with more adventures soon!

Twixmas tales - Part 1

Christmas, Twixmas and New Year have all come and gone, but as usual I've still got a lot of catching up to do. 

Meanwhile, it's been back to the grind for me since Tuesday. The long and short of it is that by the end of my first week my one and only resolution - to try and be more positive in 2024 - has already gone out of the window. Oh well, enough said.

On top of all that, I'm being plagued by Blogger issues, as lately I'm getting failed to publish errors when commenting while logged in. I lodged my problem with the Blogger community and was told it might be an issue with cookies. Apparently, third party cookies need to be enabled. For some reason, they were disabled - nothing to do with me! - and when I put it right yesterday I was able to comment normally again. Fast forward to this morning, and I'm getting the error again, and this while the bloody third party whatevers were enabled ... 

I wonder if there's anyone else out there who has been having similar problems? Anyway, I will be commenting anonymously where possible, which I can do when I'm not logged in, for the time being.

But now let's retrace our steps to December once more, starting with Saturday the 23rd which for all intents and purposes was the first day of my longed-for Christmas break.

My journal tells me that it was mostly dry but cloudy accompanied by a blustery wind. At a more than reasonable 12°C, it was much too warm for the Nordic style jumper I originally had in mind to wear with the patterned velvet maxi skirt I snapped up for € 6 at Think Twice at end of September.

Instead, the skirt's companion was a thin knit green jumper with diamond patterned yoke, to which I pinned a vintage lacquered wooden brooch, both of which were charity shop finds.

My beads were charity shopped too, but the half-elasticated belt with its massive square buckle as well as my tomato red plastic ring were high street bargains.

I just love that giddy feeling one gets on the first day of the holidays, with a seemingly endless string of days to be filled with unknown pleasures stretching out in front of you. 

We'd slept in a little, then had a leisurely breakfast, after which Jos and I went our separate ways: while he did a last minute food shop I spent a joyful hour or so pottering and playing around with my wardrobe, thinking up possible outfits for the days ahead.

Then, after a lunch of Jos's homemade minestrone with crusty bread, we contemplated going for a walk.

In spite of the temperature, the world outside our windows wasn't looking very inviting. However, with yet another batch of wet weather days forecasted, we decided to go ahead and brave the elements. If nothing else, the strong gusts of wind would make short shrift of the lingering cobwebs in our heads. 

Not being close to a town or shopping centre, there's always plenty of parking space at Boom park, which was our chosen destination for the afternoon. Obviously, our aim was to steer clear of the Christmas shopping extravaganza, which was still in full swing.

Apart from the odd like-minded Scrooges and the ubiquitous dog-walkers, we only had to share the park with the resident ducks and a white cat who was contemplating life from a fallen tree.

The paths were quite muddy in places so, as I'd been foolhardy enough not to change out of my as yet still pristine green suede boots, we took a shortcut through the layer of leaves carpeting the park's naturel playground.

In honour of Christmas - nah, not really - I was wearing red and green outerwear. This consisted of my my recently found red embroidered Kangol beret and all-time favourite green fur-collared woollen jacket. One of my best-ever Think Twice finds, the latter has been living with me since November 2017.

My Italian made red leather crossbody bag has been my weekend and holiday companion ever since I picked it up in a charity shop back in May.

Jos had been nursing a persistent head cold for a couple of days and, sure enough, he was kind enough to give it to me as a Christmas present.

By Christmas Eve we were having a sniffling and sneezing competition and were going through our stash of cotton hankies at the rate of knots.

Still, as a dedicated blogger, I was determined to step outside between showers to show you what I was wearing.

Last worn back in March, I thought it was time to give my vintage Venetia frock, with its pattern of tiny white dots and garlands of frothy pink flowers, another outing. 

I only briefly wore it on its own, just to show you the burgundy belt I'd added at my waist.

As in spite of the rain we were still blessed with highs of 12°C, I only needed a sleeveless knitted vest on top, the perfect opportunity to show you one of my latest Think Twice finds.

From Think Twice's most recent collection, this Austrian made olive cable knit beauty with its rows of tiny white rosebuds caught my eye during a lunch break cappuccino catch-up with Inez earlier that week. I thought the vintage celluloid deer brooch - picked up from the indoor flea market in December 2022 - matched it perfectly.

The pearly pink brooch I pinned to my dress came from Think Twice while the faux-pearl choker was a fast fashion buy. 

The sleeveless vest wasn't the only thing I was tempted by when perusing Think Twice's latest offerings, as I fell head over heels with this vintage wing-collared orange jumper.

Nursing my worsening cold, I spent the afternoon sprawled out on the sofa, finishing Mary Webb's Gone to Earth and listening to a selection of big band records from our collection. 

Then we tried our hand at making waffles, using one of the recipes which came with our waffle and toasted sandwich maker. They weren't half bad, particularly for a first attempt, although admittedly the first two ended up being a bit overdone ...

Unfortunately, my cold hadn't disappeared overnight on Christmas Day. I had, in fact, slept quite fitfully, waking up several times with an alternately blocked and runny nose. It's a good thing we didn't have any plans for the day.

I still insisted on getting dressed though, so this is my Christmas outfit for 2023, which actually includes two fairly recent acquisitions to my wardrobe.

The eagle-eyed among you might have spotted the vintage Diolen C&A blouse which followed me home from Think Twice during a sun-drenched lunch break at the end of November.

When I brought it home, I had this cord skirt - a naughty retail buy earlier that month - hanging outside my wardrobe, and instantly thought they would make a fabulous combo. The skirt was last seen during our November getaway.

Another one of my deer brooches adorned the blouse's collar. I found this particular one in a long-gone vintage shop shortly before the advent of my blog. I've got a penchant for vintage deer brooches and ornaments and I'm sure it doesn't come as a surprise that we sipped our alcohol free pre-dinner drinks from vintage Babycham glasses!

Speaking of brooches, I'd promised myself to tidy my drawers of brooches during my break so, in spite of the brain fog, I made a start with the first one, containing my so-called lady brooches.

As you can see, they come in all shapes and sizes and while some of them are of the cheap 'n cheerful variety, there are more than just a few treasures in there as well. I've only found out recently that one of them is quite sought after and commands a much higher price than the single digit one I paid for it. 

I can't resist a cliffhanger, so all will be revealed in my next post. In the meantime, I'm inviting you to take a guess ...

The rest of the day was spent completely engrossed in my latest read, which I'd started that morning and which transpired to be quite the page-turner! I would finish all of its 628 pages in less than a week, although I don't think it was as good as any of her previous novels.

See you next time!

A Midwinter walk

At the end of my last post I mentioned that Bess had only climbed into the lower branches of the faux fir twice since putting the thing up on the 15th of December. We were already getting our hopes up for next year, thinking it might be safe to start using our fragile vintage baubles again ... Well, what can I say? How wrong we could have been! 

While we were having lunch last Thursday, we suddenly heard a rustling and a tinkling of bells - there are two tiny gold-tone bells among our cat-proof decs - and sure enough, our fickle feline had climbed and installed herself three-quarters up the tree, from where she sat looking at us as if butter wouldn't melt.

Although my blog hasn't even reached Christmas yet, I couldn't possibly not share the photos she willingly posed for, and it definitely wouldn't do to publish them mid-January when all thoughts of Christmas have long been banished. She's been in there on a daily basis ever since, dislodging branches left, right and centre, and I've got a funny feeling we'll be obliged to dismantle the tree well before 12th Night comes around.

Excuse all this going back and forth in the time machine, but after that brief intermission, let us return to Saturday the 16th of December.

My journal, which has once again been my saviour, tells me it was a grey and chilly, yet dry day, with the mercury nudging the double digits.

I plucked another vintage dress with a generous wool content out of my wardrobe. I fell for the rather unusual mix of leopard and zebra in its print in a charity shop almost exactly two years to the day. 

I opted for berry shades for its companions: the wide stretchy belt,  beaded necklace and chunky long-line cardigan by the Belgian high end label Hampton Bays were charity shopped over the years, while the ceramic leaping deer brooch was a flea market find. 

My outfit was bookended by a red Kangol beret and a pair of burgundy boots from Think Twice.

I've included a close-up of my patterned opaques, which were a sales bargain from haberdashery and accessories chain Veritas.

I spent the morning tackling some overdue chores and dusted the blue room, landing and most of the bedroom until it was time for lunch.

Oh, and I photographed my latest € 4 Think Twice buys, starting with an instant outfit in the form of a label-less Western style tartan blouse and a peasant-style skirt, the tattered remains of whose label proclaims that it was made in France and is a 50/50% wool and polyester blend.

I also grabbed this rust brown, green, yellow and white striped men's scarf for Jos, who has been wearing it on a daily basis ever since. What's more, he willingly posed in it in front of our local charity shop, which is where we were headed after lunch. The tan corduroy hat he is wearing was gifted to him by one of his many acquaintances from the village.

We were on the lookout for a small bin for our fruit and veg waste, so that we wouldn't have to venture outside to the compost heap all the time. Of course, the charity shop obliged! What's more, there was quite a choice, from which we selected a small purple brushed metal pedal bin, which was in perfect condition apart from the tiniest of dents.

While we were there, it would have been downright criminal not to browse the clothing aisles, where I found this pair of - again virtually unused - suede grey and olive green boots.

The weather looked much more promising on Sunday, when sunshine and blue sky did away with the clouds mid-morning. A persistent wind made it feel chillier than the forecasted highs of 8°C, so that I changed my thin bottle green King Louie cardigan for a chunkier one after we'd made these photos.

Underneath I was wearing a vintage psychedelic shift dress in shades of brown on white. In order to tame its tie collar, I pinned it with a sparkly peach coloured brooch. People are usually incredulous when I tell them it isn't vintage, but picked up brand new at H&M in the early noughties! I've even seen its sisters sold as vintage on flea markets.

My moss green suede belt was charity shopped, while both the pale peach flower corsage and my tan boots were supplied by the high street. The latter, too, were exchanged for a more sturdy and slightly scuffed pair before we left the house to go for a long-overdue walk.

Tossing around a couple of walking destinations during lunch, most of which were discarded as being too muddy after all the rain the weather gods had sent our way lately, we decided to drive down to Den Brandt, one of the cluster of parks to the south of the city of Antwerp.

Creatures of habit that we are, we parked our car in a quiet side street around the corner and entered the park through the public picking garden, now quite bare and sparse looking apart from some hardy yet straggling herbs hanging on for dear life.

The poor Gautam Buddha was still sitting in the gras next to his perch, from which he was separated many months ago. 

His offerings were rather sparse too: a small sprig of ivy, a bright pink bloom, a braided ribbon, a coin-shaped pendant on a shoestring and a black plastic button.  A kindly soul had made him a lovely crown of flowering Rosemary tied with red ribbon.

The low and dazzling Midwinter sunshine had been soaking up some of the moisture from the saturated soil and was hazing the horizon as we climbed the steps into park.

We were somewhat out of our depths at first, our feet and limbs rusty from being out of practice. We were feeling strangely lightheaded as, putting our weight on to our walking sticks, we shielded our eyes from the blinding rays of the sun.

Among the desiccated reeds, the bronzed bracken and the gold and russet leafed carpet at our feet, the evergreen shrubs and pine trees stood out quite outlandishly.

I added complementing colours with my outerwear: the moss green and tan double-breasted textured wool jacket I snapped up from Think Twice at the end of September, belted with a retail buy tan leather belt, a tan beret and ditto handbag - both charity shopped - and an Autumnal hued scarf bought from H&M back in the mists of time.

The skeleton trees, contrasting starkly with the wedgwood blue sky, were catching the sun between their twisted branches. 

Then, suddenly, our first glimpse of the romantic late-classical castle, at first glance looking like a freshly and perfectly iced cake, until a closer look puts paid to that illusion as the cracks and fault-lines become apparent. They're currently renovating the so-called English cottage which is part of the estate, so hopefully the castle itself is next on the agenda?

We walked along the sweeping lawn at the back of the castle, well away from the edge of the moat which was overgrown with rampant reeds. Just before crossing the bridge and walking to the French-inspired parterre at the front, I snapped this photo of the top half of the castle rising - Manderley-style - above a bank of rhododendrons. 

Our last visit before returning to our car was to the "Dancing Nymphs", who have been reeling around the fountain in front of the castle since the park opened to the public in 1911. Purchased by the city of Antwerp at the 1910 World Fair in Brussels, and officially called the "Three Graces", these mad-looking maidens with their demonic grimaces were created by German sculptor Walter Schott.

The fountain has been lying dormant for quite a few years now, but at least the rain had filled its base with water, providing a mirror for the maidens to preen themselves in. 

Meanwhile, my Christmas break has come and gone in the blink of an eye, and I actually had to go back to work today. 

I've still got a lot of catching up to do, though, as blog-wise 2023 isn't over just yet ... I will be back with Twixmas tales in a couple of days.

Happy New Year!