So tired (of waiting)

For once, I'm counting my blessings that my blog is forever lagging behind the times and I've got a small stash of outfits and outings to fall back on it. If I hadn't, my blog would soon be coming to a grinding halt. What with the chronic lack of decent weather and our current self-isolating regime, nothing much of note has been happening in our lives lately. Plus, we are both tired. Tired of this waiting game which is putting our lives on hold, which in its turn, and combined with the continuing under-par weather, is making us physically tired and inclined to spend far too much time practising a bit of shut-eye on the sofa.

But enough already, as I'm sure you haven't come here to listen to my moaning. So, without further ado, let's have a dip in that stash of outfits and outings. Or, in this case: outing, singular!

February went off to a promising start by treating us to a sunny day on Saturday the 1st. After a frosty start, it eventually warmed up to around 6°C, making it the kind of day which was just begging us to go for a walk. 

Before we go though, why don't we step outside into the passageway and have a look at my outfit? Careful, though, as we're being watched ... the eagle-eyed among you might have noticed the feline photobomber casting a critical eye on proceedings from her perch on top of her scratching post. 

My blog tells me that this heavy-weight knit polyester dress was a charity shop find in October 2019.  In spite of its pinkish overall look, its pattern is actually red and white stripes and chevrons, with a tiny bit of grey thrown in the weave. 

I was wearing the wooden, flower painted brooch pinned to its bodice but it was mostly hidden beneath my sage green fluffy cardigan. It's from the Antwerp based fashion label Thelma & Louise but found its way into my wardrobe via the charity shops. The knitted flower corsage I enhanced it with was an old retail buy, as were both the green stretchy belt with its faux tortoiseshell buckle and the green beaded necklace.

The afternoon's outing took us to Middelheim once more. Spanning an impressive 30 hectares, with six different zones and no less than nine entrances to choose from, there's more than enough variation on offer to cater for frequent visits.

This time, we parked on the large car park near one of the entrances to Middelheim-Laag, the northern side of the park, taking in some of the familiar sculptures who live in the Human Nature zone. 

This part of the park also incorporates the formal Hortiflora, a former show garden where hedges, paths and lawns structured the landscape. Here, one of the tiny round ponds still bore its layer of ice provided by the overnight frost, trapping the leaves which had been swept into it by the ever-present wind.

We'd hardly walked through the gate when my eyes were drawn to a flash of yellow in the distance. Could it the Witch Hazel (Hammamelis) we first spotted here back in 2023? Tiptoeing closer, we saw that it was, and that we were weren't the only ones who were mesmerized by the sight of the shrub's spidery yellow, red-hearted flowers. A welcome sight indeed on a Winter's day.

I took my time taking photos, when I was joined by one of the park wardens, who helpfully pointed out the red-flowered variety in the back. It was too far away for a close-up, and as I wasn't allowed to step into the flower bed I was only able to admire it from afar.

The Mahonia on the bottom left was one of the other early flowering shrubs, proudly displaying its spiky blooms.

Instead of making our usual circuit of this part of the sculpture park, we walked right out of it by way of one of the other entrances and crossed the cobbled avenue running between Middelheim and its neighbouring park, Vogelzang. They are both part of the same cluster of parks collectively and delightfully called Nachtegalenpark (transl. Nightingale Park). 

Just before the avenue, we spotted the artwork on the bottom right. It hadn't been completely installed yet and was cordoned off by unsightly red and white tape, so that I was obliged to cut off its bottom part in my photo. It's called Tower of Silence (dating from 1960-63) and it's by the Chilean sculptor Marta Covin (1907-1995).

In 1952 Marta met Henry Moore, who encouraged her to look to the beauty of Chile and its rich heritage, which made her move away from a realistic approach to an abstract art of great expressive force. Her work was characterized by its commitment to American indigenous pre-Columbian cultures. 

We hadn't been to Vogelzang for a mind-boggling two years. This is actually the oldest of the cluster of parks which, apart from Middelheim, also comprises Den Brandt. There used to be a small castle here as early as 1457, but it was not until the 17th century that a park estate was added. The current park, laid out in typical English landscape style, dates from 1850, offering an alternation of sweeping lawns and parkland. 

The majestic old trees lining this path must be from that era. Looking up, their canopies seemed almost to be touching the sky.

I was wearing a different coat for once, but unfortunately we forgot to make photos of my outerwear. Generally not a fan of Desigual, this coat nevertheless ticked all my boxes when I met it in a charity shop in March 2023. I'm shamelessly repeating the collage I posted at the time ...

We circuited the whale-shaped pond which is the park's focal point, then crossed it by way of a decorative white painted cast iron bridge. The latter's almost perfect reflection in the pond was slightly marred by the presence of a cormorant patiently waiting for its order of food.

Steering clear of the ever-popular children's playground at the heart of the park, we made our way back to Middelheim-Laag. 

Obviously, I couldn't possibly leave without trying to hitch a ride in Welsh artist Richard Deacon's spaceship called Never Mind.  Sadly, no seats were available that day. Oh well, never mind!

And look what we have here! It's Henry Moore's (1898-1986) King and Queen! Dating from 1952, the year he met and inspired Marta Covin, it was first exhibited at the Second Biennial for Sculpture at Middelheim Park in 1953 and was subsequently bought by the city of Antwerp for the museum. 

The sculpture was positively gleaming in the sunshine, looking as if it was recently polished.

Next day's weather (we were Sunday 2 February by now) was almost a carbon copy of Saturday's.

The household chores we'd been putting off were awaiting, so the morning was spent cleaning, while in the afternoon we drove down to the garden centre for bird food to feed the hungry masses flocking to the junkyard jungle.

I've nothing to show you but my outfit. The grey and pink floral velvet skirt was a charity shop find in February 2021. It's perfect in every way, as it even has pockets, my only gripe being that they're quite tiny!

I'm almost repeating its companions on its first outing four years ago when I wore it with the same green polo neck, one of my stretchy zig-zag belts and a1960s style silver tone necklace.

The brooch I was wearing is a different one, though, incidentally also charity shopped in February 2021. This heavy silver plated one by Sidney Carron, a contemporary Paris jeweller, set me back the princely sum of € 1,50.

I'm the first to admit I've been a bit remiss in visiting your blogs but I promise I'll be mending my ways soon. 

I just blame it on being 

I knew this pin would one day come in handy when I handed over € 0,10 for it on a flea market!

See you soon!