When the world stops for snow

They've got it wrong again! That was our first thought upon opening our curtains on Sunday before last. "They", of course, are the weather forecasters, who'd predicted snow during the night. And what did we see? Exactly, nothing! The world outside our window was looking its grey old self!

For once, we were glad they were wrong, as we had a flea market to go to!

But look: we'd hardly stepped outside before it did start snowing, very gently at first, but by the time we reached the garage where our car is parked, snow was drifting down in fat fluffy flakes.

Being a Sunday morning, the roads were all but deserted, with only a few other people like us foolhardy enough to be venturing outside, instead of watching the transformation of our streets and gardens into a white wonderland from the warmth and safety of our homes.

Nobody seemed to be in a hurry, though, so we made our way at a snail's pace to the flea market venue in Mechelen, taking much longer than the usual 20 minutes or so.

Having made it safely to our destination and having checked in with our membership id cards, a happy few hours of rummaging could finally begin. 

It didn't take me long to make my first purchase, at a delightful stall full of treasures, where I found this small lot of vintage buttons.

As usual, all manner of goodies, including quite a few oddities, were shouting for our attention.

Of course, I had to photograph the creepy dolls' heads, some of them eyeless, others staring into space as if wondering about their fate. The stall's owner even re-arranged them for me so that I could take a better picture!

As we'd arrived late, our stomachs started rumbling soon, but before we sat down to lunch, I bought my first two brooches. 

The little boat with its long pin, proudly displaying the Belgian colours, might be a Liberation brooch, made to celebrate the Liberation of Belgium after the Second World War.

From the same stall came the blue and sparkly green flying bird. Both were € 3.

Soon after lunch, two more brooches came my way. The black one, which might look like plastic but is surprisingly heavy, is a vintage mourning brooch, and I think the € 7 I paid for it is quite a good price.

The plastic dove, fittingly in dove grey, was only € 2, from the same stall.

More oddities! I loved the packaging of the "Sport-Trainer", depicting three "absolutely harmless" girls. That's my friends Ingrid and Inez and me then, although I'm not too sure we are absolutely harmless. 

Then we came across the two ladies with the jewellery heaped stall I keep promising you photographs of. Well, I did it this time!

After a good old rummage more purchases were made in the form of these six brooches, for which I paid a total of € 17.

I do believe the black one with the sparkly stones might be another mourning brooch.

We also found another plaster wall plaque for our wall of heads! Isn't she absolutely gorgeous?

The snow had been replaced by yet more rain by the time we left and thaw had set in, turning the snow piled up at the side of the roads into dishwater coloured sludge.

Daylight was fading rapidly when we finally made it back, so that flash photography was required for my outfit photos, making me look all shiny and bright.

The Tweed jacket I'd been wearing on Saturday was now accompanied by green accessories: a  knitted scarf and warm woolly hat! The tan handbag - a firm favourite! - complimented the jacket's furry bits, and I was wearing my burgundy boots, which are lined with a welcome layer of woolly insulation.

First wear of this Paisley print dress, with its pleated skirt and built-in tie, which I secured with a floral scarf clip. 

Further accessories were an olive green belt, which you can only catch a glimpse of, a burgundy plastic ring and a pink owl brooch, one of the few contemporary ones I own.

Same scenario on Monday morning. Almost all of Sunday's snow had melted and the streets were looking wet and forlorn. 

While I was on the bus into town, the first batch of fresh snow starting falling, which had turned into an onslaught of merrily swirling and dancing flakes by the time I got to the office.

The sky was dark and foreboding, promising no let up of the snow and, as I stood looking down from our windows on the struggling pedestrians and slow-moving traffic, I made the wise decision to take the afternoon off.

The merest amount of snow makes Belgium's traffic come to a standstill, creating chaos, so it would have been madness to make my way home during rush hour.

An added bonus was that I could enjoy the sight of our snow filled garden and watch Phoebe leaving delicate paw prints as she explored the strange white substance.

Again, the snow didn't last and was gone within a day, so that I could breathe a sigh of relief.

Picturesque it may be, but not much fun if you have to commute!