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!

Time out

Holidays aside, I've never left it this long between posts. 

By rights, I would have published the final episode of my travelogue by now, telling you all about what we did on the last two days of our September holiday. I even made a start with editing photos and making a batch of collages.

Alas, all is not well in our world at the moment, so that I'm obliged to take some time out.

In the weeks after our return, Jos started feeling unwell, slowly but surely sinking into a depression. We initially attributed its trigger to the less than perfect circumstances of our holiday, although I'm sure the time of year, with the dark Autumn and Winter days ahead of us, must have had its role to play.

And then there was his impending birthday. He definitely wasn't looking forward to turning 77 in September, particularly since there is no denying that he is starting to feel his age. So much for saying that age is just a number, there's just no stopping the hands of the clock.

As in times of stress the first thing to go is his appetite, he started eating less and less, until we were forced to get him some protein drinks from the chemist to tide him over.

As if by magic, his appetite briefly returned around his actual birthday, only to dwindle again after less than a week. He constantly needed reminding to at least drink plenty of fluids, so it was almost a given that at some point he contracted a nasty UTI.

This made him finally see sense and go to his GP, who promptly prescribed him a course of antibiotics and started him on anti-depressants.

We are now one week later and thankfully he's got the worst of the infection behind him, although he's not out of the woods just yet. 

His appetite is yet to return as well and it's a constant struggle to get him to eat, as apart from some cut up banana, tiny pots of rice pudding and small bowls of soup, he just isn't able to force anything down.

As a result, he is feeling constantly exhausted which, according to his GP, will improve once the infection is gone completely. 

As I went for a walk in the park on Sunday morning, I implored the lady living in the shrine (below) for a miracle or two. Surely, it's not too much to ask to give him back his appetite and joie de vivre, both of which seem to have done a disappearing act at roughly the same time.

Meanwhile, we are waiting for the anti-depressants to work their magic. We were told that not only would this take a couple of weeks, things might even get worse before they get better.

I desperately miss blogging, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed this time out won't be taking all too long. It's just that my energy is currently being diverted elsewhere.

In the meantime, I'll keep reading your lovely blogs and try to comment as much as I can, as I would hate to be out of touch completely.

See you soon!

Remembering September

Although I still owe you the final installment of my September travelogue, a glance at the calendar made me reconsider and do a quick catch-up on the rest of the month instead. 

Eek, it's October already! Frankly speaking, it has felt like October for weeks, the weather gods having decided to dispense with their usual Indian Summer treat this year.

In fact, Summer had already taken a bow when we left a cloudy and blustery Poperinge behind on Sunday the 8th of September and, although still sunny and reasonably warm back at home, it didn't take long for our part of the country to follow suit.

I'd taken some extra time off and was only expected back at the office on Wednesday, so on Monday we slept late, only getting up at a rather unusual for us 9 am. It didn't exactly help that we woke up to rain, which would continue on and off throughout the day.

The day was spent with some gentle pottering, doing some unpacking, getting a wash load going and uploading my photos which, even with all the hurdles our holiday had brought, amounted to just under 700.

The day's temperature of 20°C still allowed for the wearing of short sleeves, so I picked this navy sailor-style jumper to accompany this charity shopped Terre Bleue skirt on its maiden voyage. Terre Bleue is a Belgian label which filed for bankruptcy earlier this year. They are currently holding a closing down sale but even with 70% off their prices made my eyes water when I happened to walk into one of their shops a couple of weeks ago.

In other news, Jos went to his GP and was prescribed a course of antibiotics to further clear up the infected furuncle on his leg, which it did in no time.

Tuesday's utterly miserable weather, with lots of rain and highs of barely 17°C, matched my bout of end-of-the-holidays blues perfectly.

 

I mooched around, finishing the unpacking, after which I caught up with blogland and managed to write and publish a blog post.

The day's outfit, which I repeated on my first day back at work, was built around this deliciously Autumnal Diolen Delight, its print a floral extravaganza in the colours of the season on an aubergine background.

Its ochre yellow and pumpkin orange were matched by my belt, necklace, plastic ring and longline cardigan, while its olive green was reflected by my shoes. Oh, and just look at my oak leaf and acorn brooch. Isn't it delightful?

Wednesday was yet another grey and miserable day on which rain and a blustery wind competed for the starring role and on which the mercury didn't make it past 14°C.

Horrible weather aside, it wasn't a bad day at all as I managed to catch up with work in no time, so more's the pity that it was marred by the commute from hell at the end of the day.

Although Thursday the 12th of September was my birthday, I couldn't justify taking another day off. In fact, it was the first time in many years that I'd had to work on my birthday!

And what did I get for my efforts? It might have been a heatwave when I was born, all the weather gods had in store for me 63 years later was a measly 12°C and - you've guessed it - more rain! Then, as an additional birthday treat, I was caught up in yet another hellish commute. Oh well.

Now, let me introduce you to the wonderful birthday present which was waiting for me when we came back from holiday. As curiosity got the better of me, I just couldn't wait for my actual birthday to open it. Isn't that throw, lovingly crocheted by my friend Inneke, absolutely stunning? She knows me so well, as the colours are just spot on. After a thorough inspection, it has now been fully Bess-approved too! 

My first week back on the hamster wheel was only a two-day one, so that it didn't take long for another three-day weekend to roll along. Never mind that it was Friday the 13th!

After a short-lived sunny start, the day brought us a mix of dark, menacing clouds and intermittent showers. The mercury kept going up and down like a yo-yo, but although it had the decency to climb to a - compared to Thursday's -  much more reasonable 17°C, I still had to resort to wearing long sleeves.

The skirt, snaffled in the Think Twice sales back in August, had been waiting in the wings for its first outing, but wearing it with the summery top I'd originally had in mind just wouldn't have done. Nevertheless, I think it found its perfect partner in the turquoise blouse from the Belgian Wow to Go label which came to me by way of the charity shops.

My necklace, squirrel brooch and green suede ankle boots were all charity shop finds as well. In fact, the only item bought brand new, from fast fashion shop Forever 21 of all places. However, having been a resident of my wardrobe from back in the mists of time, I do think that in this case the fast fashion moniker no longer applies.

With chillier mornings forecasted for the week ahead, I spent the morning digging out a couple of warmer coats and jackets, at the same time weeding out some no longer loved items for charity.

Armed with a bag of donations to ply the charity shop goddesses with, we drove down to the charity shop in Mortsel after lunch.

Here, I fell head over heels for a wildly patterned green on white cotton maxi dress from Zara. If initially I hung it outside my wardrobe in the hope of squeezing in one wearing before Summer was over, it has now been put away until earth has completed yet another orbit around the sun.

The floaty top with its crochet inset - also from Zara - will have to wait for next Summer too, but I've already worn the dotty blue King Louie blouse with its white trim and sprinkling of orange roses. 

Lots of sunny spells, a host of fluffy white clouds floating in a blue sky and highs of 18°C were on offer on Saturday the 14th of September, so that wild horses couldn't have kept us inside.

I'm sure that long time readers have already deducted our destination from the first collage. Not having visited this part of Middelheim Sculpture Park since May, we thought it was long overdue a visit. 

With so many of our favourites which used to be on display on the other side of the road relegated to the Open-Air Depot, the Human Nature zone (and its neighbour, Urban Nature) in the part of the park called Middelheim-low has fast become our favourite.

The park's silver and gold painted chairs have been joined by deckchairs reminiscent of those in many National Trust properties in the UK, and I gladly made use of one for a brief afternoon nap :-)

Isn't that carpet of Rudbeckia a sight for sore eyes?

Clockwise from top left in the above collage are Male Torso (1910) by Belgian sculptor George Minne (1866-1941), part of Adrift (2023) by French artist Camille Henrot (°1978), Battle (1968) by Indian sculptor and painter Amar Nath Sehgal (1922-2007) and King and Queen (1952) by English artist Henry Moore (1898-1986). Although several bronze casts were made of the latter, the first full-size cast was exhibited at the Second Biennial for Sculpture at Middelheim Park in Antwerp in 1953 and was subsequently bought by the city of Antwerp for the museum.

And here's the full-size version of your truly, wearing a beloved denim maxi dress (a gift from Vix), accessorized with a charity shopped floral fabric belt and pale green necklace, and a gold-tone brooch with a speckled green heart which was a flea market find.

I didn't really need the coral H&M cardigan I layered on top. Just my olive, navy and off-white plaid coat would have done. A Think Twice find back in February 2018, it's from the 1960s mod-inspired Lilli Ann Knits line.

And no, I'm not being abducted by aliens! This spaceship-inspired artwork is Never Mind (2017) by Welsh artist Richard Deacon (°1949), and one of my all-time favourites.

This rough-hewn sculpture is called Figure agenouillé (1970) an its creator is the French artist Eugène Dodeigne (1923-2015).

On the top left are Henry Moore's King and Queen again, followed by, in clockwise direction, De Zaaier (The Sower, 1896) by Belgian painter and sculptor Constantin Meunier (1831-1905), Trois Figures Debout (Three Standing Figures, 1978), again by Eugène Dodeigne and the back of one of the Two Pregnant Women (1952-53) by Belgian artist Charles Leplae (1903-1961).

If you think the legs (if that is what they are), part of Camille Henrot's Adrift (above, top left), or the strange blue contraption on the bottom left, called Two reclining figures on a Calder base (2006) by Belgian visual artist Peter Rogiers (°1967) are creepy, what about the giant insect on the bottom right?

Aptly called Grande insetto (Large Insect, 1957) by the Italian sculptor Agenore Fabbri (1911-1998), we were wondering at its placement in front of Per Kirkeby's brick-built cross between a maze and a castle ruin (part of which you can see here), when we were enlightened by a passing park warden.

In a true case of fact being stranger than fiction, he pointed out several groups of long-legged black spiders who had taken up residence on the brick wall (above, top right).  

On that note, it's time to bid you goodbye for now. I'll be back with my travelogue's grand finale, followed by another September catch-up soon. I solemnly promise neither will contain any more creepy crawlies!

Just going with the flow

If in the introduction to my previous blog post I might have given you the impression that blogging has become a bit of a chore, with deadlines and the like, then nothing could be further from the truth. I love my blog with a passion and I absolutely relish the interaction with my fellow bloggers and readers. In fact, in times of stress, blogging has always been my lifeline as it allows me to put things into perspective.

The latter rings particularly true in case of our September holiday, which in all honesty didn't exactly go according to plan.

At least the weather gods seemed to be putting their best foot forward on Wednesday the 4th of September. The morning sun was bathing the landscape in that hazy golden glow which is so typical for the time of year and the forecasted highs of around 22°C sounded very promising.

I dug out my trusty travelling companion - the denim maxi skirt I found in Think Twice in May 2023 - and combined it with a charity shopped t-shirt top, a close-up of whose funky print you can find here.

The fabulous haori I layered on top was a gift from my friend Inneke. Well, it was actually intended for my other friend, Inez, but as I wouldn't be seeing her until after my holiday, I thought I might as well try it out myself :-)

The day's forecast for - mostly - dry weather with lots of sunny spells would have been perfect for either that trip across the border I've been going on about or a day at the seaside. In the end, however, we decided to stay local and just go with the flow.

On the day before we left, Jos had developed a nasty-looking boil called a furuncle on the back of his leg, which hadn't got any better so far and thus had us a bit worried. Therefore, we drove into Poperinge to seek advice and supplies from a chemist. Having obtained instructions, ointment, dressing pads and plasters, we walked around the corner to the town's green lung, the Burggraaf Frimoutpark. 

Opened almost exactly 22 years to the day, the park was named after one of Poperinge's most famous sons, Dirk Frimout, who in 1992 was the first Belgian in space. 

The sculpture Jos is standing next to isn't a victim of vandalism or gale force winds; this is actually the way it is meant to be. The six meter long hollow bronze sculpture is called "Shot at Dawn" and originally was the focal point of the eponymous 2016 exhibition held in the town. Apparently its creator, the Dutch artist Anno Dijkstra, was inspired by Poperinge's War Memorial in the Market Place. You can catch a glimpse of it here.

The park is usually our first port of call on the Sunday of our arrival, when we have to share it with  families enjoying a Sunday stroll and groups of loitering youths. This being a weekday, however, we had the park practically to ourselves. In fact, I think we only met a single dog walker and a young couple sitting on a bench.

As long as the weather gods are on their best behaviour, I absolutely love this time of year, the sights and scents of Summer reluctantly passing the torch to Autumn making my heart sing and putting a spring in my step. 

As the sun had by now been eclipsed by the grey sky she would be playing hide-and-seek with all day, I'd replaced the haori by one of my favourite light-weight blazers.

 

We meandered along the reed-edged boardwalk leading through a marshy area and along a duck-filled pond, although this time around the ducks were rather conspicuous by their absence.

Then we returned by way of the main path which is lined with a series of garden rooms proudly displaying the flowers of the current season - much appreciated magnets for the local bees - and the gracefully dying seed heads of the last.

After leaving the park, we strolled through the town, reacquainting ourselves with Poperinge's by now well-known landmarks. The ancient hop-picking equipment (above, top left) is standing in the courtyard of the town's Hop Museum, while "De Spellewerkege" (above, top right) by local artist Rik Ryon commemorates Poperinge's former lacemaking industry.

Then we had huge cups of cappuccino on the terrace of La Poupée, one of the cafés lining the Market Place. The one with the whipped cream is the Belgian version of cappuccino ordered by yours truly.

In front of La Poupée is a gold sculpture of a girl balancing a serving tray. This is a tribute to Eliane Cossey, an attractive red-haired girl who worked at her father's café during the First World War. She was given the nickname of Ginger by the officers who came from far and wide to see her.

On our way back to where we'd parked our car, we paid a brief visit to the town's principal church which owes its name to Saint Bertin, who was abbot in the French town of Saint Omer in the 7th Century. 

Once again, Jos took a breather on one of the church chairs, while I explored its rich interior. The flower decorated sign is kindly asking people to pay € 0,20 chair money, which I'm afraid we neglected to do. I'm sure Saint Bertin must have told his friends the weather gods about our miserly ways.

Back at the cottage, we had lunch while discussing plans for the afternoon. We'd already earmarked a short local walk about 10 minutes from the cottage, when one look outside our window made us reconsider our options. The sky had taken on a moody granite grey hue from which, surely, rain would be pelting down any minute. Our weather app being ambiguous about the matter, we thought we'd better be safe than sorry and return to Poperinge to visit Talbot House instead.

During the First World War, Poperinge was part of unoccupied Belgium. Away from the turmoil of battle in the Ypres Salient, the town became the nerve centre of the British sector, with thousands of soldiers passing through the town each day when going to and returning from the front.

Thus, Talbot House was opened in 1915 by army chaplains Neville Talbot and Philip "Tubby" Clayton, as a club house for all soldiers regardless of rank. For many, this place became their home away from home, an oasis of serenity in a world gone mad. It was a place where people could forget about the war for just a moment, hence the sign next to the front door saying: "To pessimists, way out!"

Although we didn't know this at the time, Arthur's Dugout is part of an interactive family trail, during which Private Arthur Pettifer takes you on a tour through the house from basement to  attic. Obviously, we just had to have a look at what was down there, hadn't we?

Talbot House has been a museum since 1931 and is still run by British wardens. You can even spend the night in one of the guest rooms (above, bottom left). 

In fact, in the week before our holiday Talbot House was a contestant in the Flemish version of "Four in a Bed". Sadly, but rather unsurprisingly, they didn't win, as obviously the house was lacking the latest mod-cons and the en-suite bathrooms of the other contestants. 

By Thursday the weather gods had abandoned all pretence of trying to please us and treated us to an utterly grey and blustery day. Thankfully, no rain seemed to be at the horizon and, at 20°C, the temperature was still reasonable enough for us to go ahead with our planned visit to the seaside. After all, the forecast for Friday was looking pretty dire and there was no way we would be heading to the coast on a Saturday, so that this was our only chance to do so.

The gale-force wind dictated that I wear the only pair of trousers I'd brought and don my famous green raincoat to keep the shivers at bay.

As we'd stopped at my brother's - who moved to the area in the Spring of 2023 - on our way to the coast, it was well past midday before we'd parked our car in De Panne and found ourselves a place to eat. 

Then we braved the wind, trudging over the wet sand into the direction of France, accompanied by the soundtrack of the waves which kept chasing each other endlessly, their tips edged with frothing white foam.

But wait a minute, France, you say? Well yes, De Panne is Belgium's most westerly seaside resort. Next stop the French seaside town of Bray-Dunes! 

You can either walk along the beach or - when the tide is high - along a concrete walking embankment which runs all the way from De Panne to its French neighbour, a bracing 5 kilometer walk.

About halfway in you can find De Panne's latest attraction, the Westerpunt vantage point, which was opened in the Spring. If you squint and know what to look for, it can already be spotted from De Panne's main beach (above, top left), even if the view was rather marred by foggy weather conditions on the day of our visit.

I stumbled across this architectural masterpiece while doing some holiday prep in the weeks before our trip and instantly put it on my list of must-sees. So, propelled along by the fiercely whipping wind and with the waves crashing against the sea wall, we walked and walked until we were face to face with the mighty structure.

The Westerpunt is a geometric, low-rise staircase that takes you from the walking embankment up into the air, until you are virtually floating over the beach - or the sea if the tide is in - before taking you down again.  

The structure is six metres high and stands autonomously from the concrete walking embankment. Although it might sound incongruous, the concrete actually fits in nicely with the beach and the dunes in terms of colour and texture and - hopefully - will be able to withstand the harsh maritime climate.

Months of rising and falling tides had deposited a veritable sandpit halfway up the first flight of stairs, so that it was actually already becoming part of the beach. 

Jos refrained from joining me but was able to take a handful of pictures with his phone. 

They actually make it look more spectacular than it felt, as even yours truly, having absolutely no head for heights, had no problems whatsoever going up there. 

So, that was one thing which could be checked off our list. Please do visit again if you want to find out what we did next!