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?