No time to wallow in the mire

I have to admit that I've been feeling a bit off these last couple of days. There's nothing wrong, really, so don't worry, I'm just having a serious case of the blues which are putting my heartstrings out of tune.

In a world where everything was as it should be and the thought of a pandemic having the world in its vice sounded like pure science fiction, we would be in our cottage in Shropshire by now, after a day's journey which would have started in the early hours of this morning.

It's the first time in over twenty years that we won't be making it to the UK!

And I'm sorry, but even knowing that there are far worse things people have to deal with the world over, or that I'm just one of many whose holiday plans were cancelled, doesn't really help to ease the pain right now.

But I'm sure it will pass, and as I count my blessings - we are both in good health for starters - there really is no reason to wallow in self pity. And we have all the time in the world as well, to do almost anything we feel like doing - except going on that UK holiday - including doing nothing very much at all.

So, without further ado, I am retracing my steps to Friday before last. The sun was still conspicuous by her absence, and the day's overall gloominess was accompanied by temperatures barely into double figures.

I was in the mood for what Sheila would call a jammy dress, and this flower sprinkled chocolate brown one immediately sprang to mind. It's an old sales bargain from Zoë Loveborn, a label which doesn't seem to be around anymore. 

It's got three-quarter sleeves, which obviously aren't visible here, as it was far too chilly to step out into the garden without a cardigan. From its cheerful print I chose yellow for my belt and green for my necklace. And with the weather forecast being pretty dire, I obviously needed an umbrella!

The multiple outside projects I had lined up needed to take a back seat for now so, after cursing the weather's fickleness, I decided to continue with project dining room.

The wide window sill overlooking the passageway was in need of a good dusting so I thought this was the perfect opportunity to rearrange the objects on display. It might be hard to believe, but I didn't even put everything back! A minimalist I will never ever be.

The huge black phone was a gift from one of Jos's friends. It is a direct line desk phone, with a metal body and a Bakelite handle, dating from the 1950s. As you can see, it has a crank, and no dial.

The lamp, with its embellished brass Art Nouveau base, was found in a vintage shop, while the old glass pop bottles were picked up during various UK holidays.

The plaster girl and her two adorable, big Bambi-eyed pet deer was a charity shop find back in 2018. 

And then there's the typewriter ... It is a much loved heirloom, belonging to my paternal grandfather and dating from the late 1920s, early 1930s, and it used to be displayed in a more prominent position. If you're interested in its history - and my grandfather's - you can read all about it in this post.

But lately, it has fallen out of grace, which I'm sure needs no explanation. However, rather than banishing it to the basement, I moved it a bit further along the window sill ...

... and gave it a face mask!

Jos had a laughing fit when he saw what I'd done, and I'm hoping that it will make you smile at the very least.

Directly beneath the window sill, in what used to be a bit of a wasted space, is a low bookshelf custom made by my Dad, who used to be a joiner by trade.

Apart from an encyclopedia of the 20th Century and my vintage Barbie collecting books, the shelf is home to a large collection of gardening books.

These do come in all shapes and sizes including, obviously, those of a practical nature.

The vast majority are second-hand finds and there are some proper vintage ones as well.

Much to my delight, the well-thumbed copy of  the late Christopher Lloyd's The Well-Tempered Garden, contained the second one of the brass bookmarks from Past Times.  I knew there were two, but I didn't have the faintest idea where the second one had got to. 

There are gardening books of a more poetic nature too, as well as a volume of botanical prints and the December 1940 issue of My Garden, intriguingly subtitled as An Intimate Magazine for Garden Lovers!

All of a sudden, with an eardrum shattering noise, it starting pelting down, producing a watery curtain which soon turned our garden path into a minor river. 

It was brief but torrential and although everything had received a welcome soaking, no real damages seemed to have been caused.

Lunch was followed by our weekly visit to the garden centre. By then, it had turned chilly enough to wear a coat over my dress and cardigan. 

We bought some trellis for a pending garden project and some more plants, including six lavenders of the Hidcote variety. This is yet again a UK holiday reminder, as we visited Hidcote Gardens near Chipping Campden in Gloucestershire on a hot day in July 2006.

Our first job on Saturday, when it mercifully remained mainly dry, was planting up two window boxes with the six Hidcote lavenders. These boxes live on our bedroom's window ledge and had shamefully been harbouring only weeds for quite some time.

The lavender is only just coming into flower, and we are looking forward to waking up to the buzzing of bees in the months to come.

A gusty wind was blowing and making the clouds play a game of hide-and-seek with the sun. Although it wasn't too bad during the brief moments that the sun was ahead of the game, it was decidedly chilly when the clouds had once again gained the upper hand.

Long sleeves to the rescue! I accompanied my sky blue, orange and green floral skirt with a green, yellow and white flower strewn long-sleeved Diolen blouse. More flowers appeared in my brooch, while further accessories were my favourite orange belt and a pale blue beaded necklace.

Before going out into the garden, I pulled on the old blue cardigan I've got lying around, as I could definitely do with a double layer of long sleeves. 

Apart from the lavender, we also bought some patio plants, which I potted up and divided over the plant table next to the bench at the back of the garden and the table right outside the back door. They include, clockwise from top right, pink Garvinea, which is a hardy garden gerbera, blue yellow-hearted Felicia, and deep red Cosmos atrosanguineus, also know as chocolate cosmos, as the flowers have a distinct chocolate scent. We used to have them many years ago but I hadn't been able to find some since. With that in mind, I couldn't resist buying two.

The tempestuous weather continued on Sunday and the wind combined with the odd shower made for a day better spent inside.

I caught up with blogland, continued with my Victorian fashion book and listlessly pottered around the house, making a start with rearranging the book and cd shelves in the dining room.

I was in short sleeves again, but the dress I'd plucked from my wardrobe was a thick and lined Diolen one, so that I only needed the cardigan to go on my round of inspection in the garden.

The dress, with its sunny blue, white and yellow print, originally had belt loops, but they weren't where my waist is, so I removed them. The loops are an indication that the dress once had a belt, which it had lost by the time it came to me. I added a yellow vinyl one from my stash, wore a vintage yellow beaded necklace and pinned on a large plastic brooch featuring a lady wearing a generously decorated hat.

To the orange, yellow and blue checked cardigan - a charity shop find - I clipped three different flower corsages.

And what did I see on my round of inspection? 

Exactly! Lots of wildlife, some good and some bad. The bad being the snails, of course, who, with their army of friends and family, are lying in wait to decimate our garden plants.

They seem to have a particular penchant for the Tagetes, but aren't above eating holes into the Hollyhock leaves or leaving their slimy trails all over any Petunias which are planted low enough for them to reach. Now where did I put that pot of Vaseline, so that I can at least try and deter the voracious creatures from devouring those plants which are lucky enough to be planted in pots!

Clouds are coming

Monday the First of June was Whit Monday, which is a bank holiday here in Belgium, making my already long weekend even longer.

Waking up feeling languid, as if hungover from all that fresh air I'd breathed on our nature walk on Sunday, I was clearly not up to doing much at all. This wasn't helped by those dreaded end-of-a-long-weekend blues and exacerbated by the temperatures, which were once again nudging towards the high twenties.

Already battling with stickiness inducing humidity quite early in the morning, I opted for breezy, lightweight fabrics in a distinctly non-vintage skirt and blouse combo. OK, I could have gone sleeveless, but that would have meant defuzzing my underarms, which would have been too much exertion for my lethargic state of mind.

The bright orange floral skirt is an old and much loved retail buy, while the thin cotton blouse was a charity shop find, originally from H&M. I think it picked up the blues in the skirt perfectly.

I defined my waist by adding a favourite tan belt, and accessorized with an orange beaded necklace and a very fragile vintage brooch, a flea market find back in August 2018.

Oh, and I just remembered I painted my toenails that day, choosing an aqua shade, so that I could at least wear sandals without having the fashion police at my heels.

Accompanied by Phoebe, who soon had enough and settled on her cushion on our garden bench, I did my daily round of the garden, checking the progress of plants and flowers and doing some light deadheading along the way. 

The Petunias I planted in one of our hanging baskets are blooming exuberantly, almost covering the basket itself. Aren't they a sight to behold?

On our previous garden centre visit, I'd succumbed to a pot of Nepeta or catmint, supposedly as a treat for Phoebe. However, after initially going mad, rubbing her head in it and chewing off a couple of leaves, she seems to be mostly ignoring it, so that I could safely plant it out in the garden.

We'd also bought a well developed Echinacea, which I'd planted in a big terracotta pot, putting some two-tone orange Tagetes and velvety purple and cream Petunias in front.  I used the pot as a stopgap between the new border and our garden bench, where the poor and sandy soil has prevented me from planting anything permanent just yet.

I was a novice gardener when we first moved to Dove Cottage, my only experience gained from our plant covered balcony high up at our twelfth floor apartment and - subconsciously - from the gardens of my childhood, in particular my paternal grandparents' enchanting little plot.

But my love affair with gardens and plants was instant and irrevocable and, even if it lay dormant for a couple of years, it's certainly back with a vengeance. And however jaded my soul is, it will be soothed by stepping out into the garden and visiting my garden friends. Currently going strong are, clockwise from top left, Gaillardia 'Wild Fire', Delphinium 'Dark Blue and White Bee', Helenium 'The Bishop' and Geum 'Lady Stratheden'.

That night, we were regaled by yet another glorious sunset, which was made even more spectacular by the murder of crows which is roosting on one particular rooftop, intermittently making short group flights, and creating a rather raucous cacophony.

My working week consisted of two consecutive days on Tuesday and Wednesday. But while Tuesday was very busy, taking me well over two hours to just go through my emails, Wednesday was quite tame and quiet in comparison.

It did start with a visit to the hairdresser, as I'd finally been able to make an appointment for a colour and cut. They even opened the salon half an hour earlier, especially for me!

Having to wear a mask - I obviously used a disposable one and not one of the nice cotton ones made by my lovely stepdaughter - was a bit weird, as was having my hair done by an alien-looking creature wearing a mask as well as a face shield. It was nice chatting to Michel, though, and he did an amazing job as always. We also marvelled at the fact that I've been visiting the salon for 25 years!

After I'd caught up with work, I felt inspired enough to don my mask and venture outside again. I popped into the post office next door to send off a surprise card to someone I won't mention as they might be reading this, and then walked to the nearest Think Twice shop. This felt even weirder than going to the hairdresser, but I wanted to continue giving them my support. 

There's a one way system and only a limited number of people are able to shop for a maximum of 30 minutes, but there were hardly any customers. I was in there for under 15 minutes, tentatively going through the racks of clothing without feeling the need to buy.

Before leaving the shop, however, I spotted this moss green vintage handbag, which is just the right size to serve as a workaday bag. Resistance was futile!

On Thursday, the sunny Summer weather which had been with us for weeks suddenly came to an end. It was cloudy and dull and quite a bit cooler, but although rain had been forecasted, precipitation was limited to some scattered drops.

The distinct lack of sunshine, however, meant that I was forced to provide my own, which I did by wearing this symphony of green, yellow and orange on white.

I accessorized the dress, a true vintage one from Think Twice, with an ochre belt and beads, and added an orange and green mottled brooch.  My ochre long line cardigan, to which I'd clipped an orange flower corsage, completed that day's outfit.

While Jos was doing the weekly food shop, I exchanged the tired looking vinyl tablecloth covering the kitchen table with a cheery wipeable one featuring lemons on a bright pink and white zig zag pattern, which I'd got when I went to buy the towels the previous week.

Instead of putting back the peeling placemats which were well past their sell-by date, I made some new ones, using transparent plastic L-folders and vintage wallpaper.

After lunch, we made a trip to the DIY store, as I've got plans to breathe new life into the vintage 1960s cane chair which lives under our awning. The chair was part of the furniture Jos and his late ex-wife started married life with back in 1968.

We bought the necessary paints (it's going to have a minty green top coat) and brushes but I'm currently awaiting better weather conditions to start the project.

Meanwhile, Jos was able to harvest some of our rhubarb and make a tiny single portion of stewed rhubarb, which he loves but I don't. 

Phoebe really is an all-weather girl, although she does draw the line to heavy rain, when she takes refuge in her box under the awning, often stubbornly refusing to come inside even when it's pelting down.

And still, regardless of the weather, flowers come and go in a dizzying parade of colours and shapes.

I do hope that the one and only flower bud in our oriental Poppy will keep from flowering until the predicted rains have come and gone. It would be such a shame if its life were curtailed and we - and the resident bees - were denied its intoxicating beauty.

I'm leaving you for now, with a view of the new border which is looking lusher by the minute. As you can see, the Nasturtiums I sowed around the obelisk are producing huge leaves, but there's no sign of any flowers as yet. I'm living in hope that some rain will do the trick.

I'll be back with more garden news and adventures in a couple of days. Meanwhile, as always, do stay safe, my friends!

Walk on the wild side

What a difference a week makes! Yesterday's torrential rains and tempestuous winds have left significantly cooler temperatures in their wake, making it almost unimaginable that only a week ago we were able to have breakfast in the garden.

Saturdays are synonymous with Jos's cooked breakfasts, so we took our plates of bacon omelettes to our little corner in the courtyard, using the barrel as a side table for our butter dish and coffee pot.

My outfit that day was based around one of the infamous missing dresses which I'd unearthed from that overlooked suitcase. With its vibrant orange, pink, navy and white plaid pattern, it is the perfect dress for a sunny day spent in the garden. Plus, it has pockets!

I pinned a pink owl brooch to its collar, added a pink beaded necklace and wore a raffia belt at my waist. The red slingbacks are Clarks and were picked up in a charity shop in Bridgnorth during last June's blogger meet-up with Vix and Jon. 

In spite of the gorgeous weather, I was feeling a bit blue that day, which I tried to alleviate by planting out the new stuff we'd brought home from the garden centre on Friday. 

My spirits more or less restored, I caught up with blog reading and commenting after lunch, and then worked on my new blog post, which I would publish that evening.

Then it was back into the garden for a another watering session, while being spied upon by a panther hiding among the ferns. I admired the abundantly flowering lilac Lobelias in the passageway and was overjoyed to see that the first flower had opened in our Geranium 'Rozanne', one of the hardy Geraniums I'd planted back in April.

Tired of spending almost all our time at home, apart from my office days and our weekly trips to the garden centre, we were determined to go for a ramble on Sunday.

Due to the restrictions, it had been months since we'd been for a proper walk. Initially, at the start of Belgium's lockdown light, we hadn't been allowed to go for non-essential drives, so that we could only go for local walks. This rather limited our options and, not surprisingly, our local green spaces were far too crowded for comfort, so that we avoided them like the plague.

Last Sunday, a couple of weeks after these restrictions had been lifted, we thought it safe to drive a bit further afield, reasoning that most people would have been bored of walking by now. 

Our destination of choice was our favourite nature reserve, Blaasveldbroek, which is about a thirty minute drive from where we are. Those of you who have been following my blog for a while have visited this magical place with me many a time.

The reserve, which comprises about 675 hectares, is a watery wonderland of marshland, brooks, ponds and lakes, the majority of which is only two to three metres above sea level.

Our hearts made huge leaps of joy the minute we stepped out of the car and, armed with our faithful walking sticks and a picnic, we set off among the meandering sandy paths, bordered by reeds through which the first of the tranquil, tree-bordered ponds could be glimpsed.

The scent of early Summer was carried by a gentle breeze, the pollen rich air tickling our nostrils.

We sighed contentedly as it was utter bliss to be walking these paths again, with only the calls of the birds and the polyphonic buzzing of insects for company.

At intervals, other walkers crossed our path, but as we had opted to stay away from the well-trodden paths, we were mostly on our own.

We took our time to stand and stare and enjoy the wide variety of wildflowers growing here, including the pink delights of Ragged Robin, Red Campion and Herb Robert, frothy white Cow Parsley and cheerful yellow Flag Iris.

A mighty chorus of frogs accompanied us until we drew nearer, and it suddenly quietened down.

Peering over the railing of one of the wooden jetties placed at intervals over one of the brooks, we spotted several of the cleverly camouflaged creatures, one or two making leaps of faith into the weedy water.

The sun hid behind the clouds once or twice, but she soon re-appeared, shining brightly in a picture perfect blue sky dotted with equally picturesque cotton wool clouds.

A faint rumbling in our stomachs made us realize it was past lunch time, so we retraced our steps to a bench we'd passed earlier to have an illicit picnic. Incredulously, until a couple of days ago, people weren't allowed to sit down anywhere - on a bench or otherwise -  even at the required distance from others or if there was no one else around for miles. As we were of the opinion that this was a completely ludicrous restriction, especially in an almost deserted nature reserve, we couldn't care less and sat down anyway.

The flower meadow print of my dress attracted many a buzzing insect, not all of them completely harmless, so I kept on my lightweight pink cardi to deter them, even if it was warm enough to go without. My sunhat and sunnies (€ 0,50 charity shopped Rodenstock frames with prescription lenses) were essentials, as was the eternal hand sanitizer in my red vintage cross-body bag.

The pink floral trainers - a rare pair without those ubiquitous ugly white soles - were a Shrewsbury charity shop find last June.

Near the end of our walk we came across a bench with a magical view across a tranquil lake, where we daringly sat down to rest our weary feet and backs, while watching the antics of a couple of nesting coots.

I'm not sure if there were any baby coots as yet, but Daddy Coot was in the process of dragging along a fairly long blade of grass to the island nest, where Mama Coot was patiently waiting his return.

After taking endless photographs with my proper camera, here I am crouched down at the lakeside, taking some with my phone's camera. Funnily enough, the one below turned out to be the best of the bunch.

Sunshine, blue sky, wispy clouds and a waterlily lake: at that blissful moment in time it was the best view in the world.

And then I just knew that all will be fine in the end.

I won't forget a single day, believe me

Shamelessly quoting the lyrics of the 1968 Kinks song, these are certainly days I'll remember all my life. But in all honesty, I have to admit that without my journal - both my private behind-the-scenes one, and the more visual one provided by my blog -  I doubt that, let's say, in one year's time, I will remember exactly how I spent them.

Even now, they are becoming a bit of a blur already, and I often have to consult what I've jotted down in my journal to recall what I've been doing on a particular day. These writings differ quite a bit from my blog. More often than not, they are just a couple of words describing my activities but, for the sake of history, I also try to express my feelings, thoughts and worries. In my experience, this can be a bit like walking on a tightrope, though: one look at the abyss beckoning below, and I'm done for.

So, days! They do come in all shapes and sizes. The best ones are those on which I'm feeling energetic, with a flurry of activity packed within its hours. And while I don't claim they make me forget the existence of the C word, it is certainly pushed to the very edges of my mind on such days. 

Take Tuesday before last, for example. But before I am taking you along on my day's journey, let's have a look at what I was wearing.

Part of a haul at one of our charity shop Retro Days, this psychedelic print dress in red, pink, orange, blue and green, has a peasant neckline and puff sleeves. I covered its elasticated waist with a blue belt from my stash. While orange was my chosen colour for my necklace and carved plastic bangle, I opted for my green birds-in-flight brooch, the only retail item in my outfit.

The blue of the belt re-appeared in my shoes, which were a charity shop find last year.

After breakfast, and while Jos was doing the weekly shop at the drinks superstore, I walked into the village for a spot of shopping. The shops, having only just opened, weren't very busy yet except for the one having a clearance sale, its window announcing 75% reduction.

I gave its long queue a wide berth, took a deep breath, put on my mask and entered the shop next door. I was in need of some new kitchen towels, the majority of our current ones having become decidedly holey. I found some nice thick new ones and indulged in a set of cheerful yellow bath towels as well.

Back at home, I exchanged the last of the Winter boots, which live in wicker chest in our hallway, with some easy Summer shoes and sandals. While I was putting the boots away, I came across a shoe box containing a pair of unworn ankle boots (top right). Last Spring, I had a shoe emergency at the office, forcing me to buy a replacement pair during lunch break. These pinkish tan boots with their wicker-like panels turned out to be such a good buy that I later bought an identical second pair in the sales. The old ones (bottom left) have accompanied me on many a walk, but are now starting to look a bit worse for wear, and have been relegated to garden use.

After that, I decided to crack on with the 1930 display cabinet. I'd already cleaned the compartment containing our small collection of Bakelite, as well as its contents, but had yet to re-arrange the jumble of items. Apart from some smaller pieces (shaving kit, soap dish, chocolate mould and a flashlight, among other things) there are two large round boxes. The one on the bottom left is fairly common, and used to contain chocolates from a long-gone brand called Martougin, while the green one on the top right is quite rare. It was produced by Belgian company Ebena between 1921 and 1931. Look how exquisitely decorated it is!

The only thing left to do was dusting the top of the cabinet and its inhabitants, snooty Idina and her menagerie of dogs! Oh, and there's a Bakelite lamp and radio as well.

I'm pretty sure that Idina needs no further introduction, but I'm equally certain you'd love to meet the dogs, so here they are. They were all either flea market or charity shop finds. Although they do look like a set, the two on the top left were found years apart. The treen Scottie on the bottom left is a pipe holder. 

While I was rummaging through the pile of records which lives next to the cabinet, I came across this box set of World War II hits. It was picked up in a treasure trove of a charity shop called Animals in Need in Newcastle Emlyn, Wales and, surprisingly, it contains cassettes rather than records. I thought No. 6 was quite apt for these days!

The rest of the day was spent pottering in the garden and admiring its blooms. I find deadheading - and to a lesser degree, watering - very calming activities.

The Hydrangeas are getting more colour every day and I particularly love them at this stage, with the blue tinged petals emerging among the lime green.

The pink hanging Pelargonium (part of a pair) is a survivor from last year, while the bright blue Delphiniums (bottom left) are a new addition. 

More flowers, blooming in our baskets, pots and borders! Their colour and diversity is giving me so much pleasure. I actually forgot I'm a plant-o-holic!

Wednesday was another office day, and emboldened by Tuesday's shopping experience, I actually went outside during lunch break and, in a quiet shop well away from the hustle and bustle, bought a cheerfully checked vinyl tablecloth for our little table.

In complete contrast to Tuesday, Thursday was one of the quiet days, when I couldn't seem to settle to anything.

I was wearing a green striped vintage dress, the stripes meeting in a chevron pattern in its skirt. Red was the main colour for my accessories, which included a brooch with a trio of Scottie dogs, a beaded necklace a belt. A bangle and two bracelets in cream, red, and green completed my outfit.

We had lunch - Jos's delicious homemade tomato soup with homemade bread - sitting at our little table, enjoying the company of the creepy crawlies which seem to find our garden irresistible.

Afterwards, I got out my sewing basket and shortened the lining of a dress which kept playing peek-a-boo. An hour's soothing and relaxing occupation, its repetitiveness allowing my thoughts to drift, its soundtrack of the buzzing of the bees and the droning of a single small aircraft taking me right back to my childhood.

Friday was another warm, sunny day on which indolence was the name of the game.

My outfit that day consisted of easy-going clothes, in the form of a button-through denim skirt (from Think Twice) and a new-with-tags lobster top from the charity shop. I wore a red and white beaded necklace and a black and white woven belt. And of course only one brooch was right for this outfit, so I granted the lobster the company of my prawn brooch!

Following  our weekly outing to the garden centre, lunch was once again had in the garden, after which we sat talking and reading while savouring a refreshing, non-alcoholic beer. We are quite spoilt for choice here in Belgium, and have at least 5 types of non-alcoholic beer in our fridge at any given time.

Happy? Well, yes, it is possible to be happy, even during these trying times. Happiness, after all, lies in the small things. Happiness is having time, for instance, a luxury we can finally afford. 

Time to read at odd times and being able not only to have a novel on the go, but a non-fiction gem from my fashion library as well.

Happiness is laughing at silly things, like some of the kitschy solar lights in the garden centre, our favourite being three hungry looking snails sitting on a bare branch. 

There's happiness to be found in nature's twist and turns, sometimes quite literally. There's an uncanny resemblance to that solar light in that gnarled piece of wood, don't you think? Now all I need are some willing snails!

And my heart did make a happy little leap when,  rummaging through some drawers, I found a long lost treasure: this delightful bookmark, a holiday souvenir from many years ago.

So, what are the little things that are making you happy these days?