Sunkissed in October

We are well and truly on the slippery slope of Autumn, with October on its way out and November looming menacingly on the horizon. 

Umbrellas and windscreen wipers have been doing overtime this week and sunny spells were so short-lived that they could easily have been missed with a blink of the eye.

All this, however, was still in the future when the first true month of Autumn tiptoed in on Sunday the 1st of October. With forecasted highs of 24°C, it felt more like a Summer's day, although there was no denying the hint of Autumn in the air. 

I have to confess that, apart from the rain and the darkening of the days, I absolutely love this time of year. So, as long as the weather gods find it in their hearts to send us sunny weather, I'm not complaining and I'm certainly game for a walk.

In spite of it being only about half an hour's drive from Dove Cottage, we hadn't been to our beloved Blaasveldbroek since March. In fact, a quick search of my blog revealed that for some reason we hardly ever seem to visit this wonderful nature reserve during the Summer months. 

If I did my sums right, this should be the 19th time you have walked here with me since the early days of my blog in the Spring of 2016.  So do forgive me if some of the sights have become a bit too familiar by now ...

However, we only discovered the path we started Sunday's walk with during the height of the pandemic in 2020. Typically, it happened when we took a wrong turning and got lost. Now, it's almost a given that our walk takes us past the lake with its tiny island, catching the odd tantalizing glimpse through the trees until we reach a boardwalk (above, top left) leading towards a jetty.  

There used to be a bench here, which was ideal for a secluded picnic, or simply for sitting in contemplation of nature. Sadly, it seemed to be leaning ever more precariously with each visit, until it was slowly but surely sinking into the water, and it was ultimately removed.

We stood on the jetty for a while, breathing in lungfuls of spicy Autumnal air and staring across the lake where we spotted the giant sunlounger among the reeds (above, top right).

Giant sunlounger? Well, yes, here it is, its giant proportions duly demonstrated by Jos, who decided to take forty winks!

Meanwhile, I investigated the still abundant flora, noticing in particular those of an invasive nature, like the Crown Vetch (above, bottom right) and Himalayan Balsam (below, top right), the shape of whose flowers have earned them the nickname of 'policeman’s helmet'. Its botanical name, Impatiens glandulifera) is a giveaway of the fact that it is a relative of the humble Busy Lizzie (Impatiens walleriana).

Having finally managed to drag Jos away from the lounger, we continued on our way. We had to take a left turn here instead of continuing on the path which would take us past the crooked poplar tree. Tempting though it was to keep on walking, it would have meant quite a detour and, eventually, a stretch along a tarmacked path on the outskirts of the reserve. 

However, the tree insisted on having its photo taken, which has become something of a tradition.  I have counted no less than eight photos of it on my blog, taken in various seasons over the years. 

Veering left, our walk took us on a long and straight path hemmed in by tall reeds and trees which catch and collect the warmth of the sun. After heavy rainfall, and particularly in Winter, the path can become quite waterlogged, which often - like here, on our last visit in early March - makes it hard to negotiate unless one is wearing wellies.

No such thing now, as it was virtually dry as dust, even the low lying water meadow the path skirts before the heart of the domain is reached.

We passed a patch of Michaelmas daisies which was buzzing with bees and some Sweet Chestnut trees ready to drop their lethal ammunition from a great height.

It was well past midday when we approached the visitor centre. In spite of the rather alarming number of cars in the car park, we hadn't met too many other walkers and the picnic area was all but empty apart from a couple of cyclists taking a break.  Consequently, we had the pick of the picnic tables!

There's another lake with a jetty here, which is just perfect for the obligatory outfit photos.

I was wearing my beloved chambray maxi skirt combined with the Finnish peasant-style blouse I picked up from Think Twice back in July. They were united by one of my chevron patterned stretchy belts and I picked a green wooden Les Cordes necklace charity shopped in the early Summer of 2020.

My sage green suede Mephisto ankle boots turned out to be the perfect choice and didn't suffer from walking in the dewy grass.

In spite of having taken precautions by wearing long sleeves and a pair of tights, I was bitten by a nasty beast yet again. However, I was able to nip it in the bud by applying hydrocortisone cream the minute I got home.

I left Jos sitting on the bench and went exploring the so-called Beaver Island which juts out into the lake. This is basically an adventure playground for children adorned with several otter and beaver related wood carvings. 

From here, I spotted Jos on his bench, but although I called out to him and waved frantically, he couldn't work out my whereabouts. If you squint or zoom in you might spot him sitting there in his orange shirt slightly to the left of the tree.

The remainder of our walk meandered through the woods until we reached the largest of the lakes with its population of water birds of various plumage. It was eerily quiet apart from the occasional quacking of a bickering pair of ducks and the disgruntled clucking of a single moorhen. Soon, the loudly honking Canada geese which overwinter here will be lords and masters of the lake again.

The first week of October brought a sudden drop in temperature, from a sizzling 26°C on Monday to just 20°C with lots of wind and a couple of showers on Tuesday. And although the sun briefly rejoined us on Wednesday, at 17°C it felt decidedly chilly.

Short-sleeved it may be, the knit polyester fabric of this fit and flare dress is perfect to keep the goosebumps at bay at this time of year. With its floral brown, orange and white pattern, there's no denying its 1970s heritage. 

A charity shopped yellow Zoë Loveborn cardigan, squishy moose brooch, orange ring and ditto beaded necklace completed my outfit.

The caramel suede ankle boots I'm wearing were picked up that very day during lunch break. As I casually strolled into high street shop Van Haren, I spotted them sitting on a shelf of bargains.

The same shelf also contained a pair of black mock crock ankle boots, which I ended up buying as well. Surely, at € 20 and € 25 respectively, it would have been a crime not to?

See you soon for another October catch-up!

Walking on water

Remember the wicker basket that followed me home from the last flea market? I am truly a sucker for them as, in spite of the not insignificant number already cluttering up Dove Cottage's spare room, I cannot seem to stop picking them up whenever the opportunity presents itself.

The largest of my baskets are true workhorses and have been roped in as storage for belts, scarves and holiday brochures, to name but a few. In fact, my latest buy has already been put to work and is currently holding my stash of long-sleeved t-shirts. The others, unfortunately, were crammed into every available nook and cranny, so that sadly enough it was a case of out of sight, out of mind! 

Note my use of the past tense, though, as on Friday last week - we were the 10th of March by then - I woke up with a fully formed idea: what if I displayed them on a coat stand? Not wanting to be left deflated by a long-winded and possibly fruitless search in the charity shops, I went online and searched IKEA's website. And hey presto, there it was: I instantly fell for its classic design and, what's more, I knew that the sturdy steel it was made of would most definitely be up to the job.

 

So, right after lunch that day, we did something we hadn't done in well over ten years. We went to our nearest IKEA store. We expected it to be a lot busier, but apparently we'd picked the right time of day, as it was actually quite alright. 

By the time we'd paid for our purchases (almost inevitably, we also ended up buying a couple of smaller things, such as some laundry bags and a new laundry basket) the weather, which had been reasonably sunny, with 10°C, had changed for the worse. Strong gusts of wind were rattling the IKEA flag poles in the parking lot, and I had to hold on to my beret and scarf to keep them from making their escape. The temperature had dropped several degrees as well, and would be more than halved by the end of the afternoon. 

But we made it home in one piece and, after Jos had put the thing together and we'd done a reshuffle in our bedroom to make space, I had fun collecting all my baskets and arranging an eye-pleasing display.

As a bonus, here are some of the baskets in my collection. All but one in the above collage were charity shop finds - the one on the top left was picked up in Bridgnorth, Shropshire in 2018 - but I bought the green-striped and raffia embellished beauty from a vintage shop which unfortunately is no longer trading.

Both the crab basket on the top right and the tourist souvenir basket which probably started its life in Menorca (bottom left) were charity shopped as well, the latter quite recently last November. I'm in a quandary about the origins of the other two, though. I seem to remember that one of them - I think the blue one - came from Think Twice, but my mind draws a blank for the yellow one.

By now, the weather had deteriorated even further, the temperature slowly but surely making its way towards freezing point and with rain followed by sleet and hail lashing our windows.

As weather conditions prevented us from taking outfit photos, I decided to follow in Vix's footsteps, and try my hand at a flatlay, for which I used the only uncluttered bit of floor space in our bedroom.

The dress, which is a rich chocolate brown rather than black, is vintage and another Think Twice purchase. The label reads Ralph dress, and proclaims it was made in West Germany. The three buttons at the cuffs echo those decorating each shoulder. 

Picking up the colours of the floral pattern, I added a turquoise belt and orange beaded necklace, then layered it with a blue, charity shopped Zoë Loveborn cardigan with orange buttons, to which I pinned the orange flower brooch which was a gift from Kezzie.

Saturday's weather was the complete opposite of Friday's, having a frosty start but, courtesy of the delicious all-day sunshine, warming up to a reasonable 7°C during the day.

It was still chilly enough to wear this as yet unworn pink and green patterned wool-blend dress. Charity shopped back in October, it's from the French Le Gaillard label, its shoulder pads a testimony to the 80s. 

I enhanced the green bits in the dress's pattern by adding a stretchy belt, ring, necklace and huge bird-on-a-branch brooch in shades of my favourite colour. 

Note that, in anticipation of the afternoon's adventure, I was already wearing my chocolate brown, fleece lined walking boots. Although, in hindsight, I would have been better off wearing a pair of wellies!

The weather gods having conspired against us somewhat lately, we hadn't ventured any further than the cluster of city parks in the last couple of months. This time, however, the capricious deities were kind enough to treat us to a sky painted the most delicate of blues rippled with whirls of white cloud.

Our destination for the afternoon, a leisurely drive of about half an hour from home, were the enchanting wetlands known as Blaasveldbroek. 

Regular readers of my blog are well acquainted with this magical place, as they've tagged along on my walks here at least a dozen of times in the past 7 years. It's an all-seasons favourite whenever the weather allows, but my blog tells me we hadn't been here since November. 

The relentless rainfall of the intervening months had turned this watery paradise, most of which is a mere two to three metres above sea level, into a half-drowned landscape. The jetty I am standing on was almost level with the mirror-like water of the pond so that it felt as if I was walking on water.

Creatures of habit, we almost always do the same circuit, skirting the big pond the jetty juts out into, and then taking a left turn towards the heart of the domain. 

Imagine our dismay when we found the path partly submerged by floodwater (below, top left). We briefly considered trying to navigate the puddles by walking on the grass edges, but these turned out to be saturated by flood water as well. Not surprisingly, as the path is hemmed in by swollen brooks on both sides. 

There was nothing for it but to continue walking straight on along a winding path which would eventually take us to Hazewinkel, a 2000 meter rowing and regatta course. In order to re-enter the domain without retracing one's steps, there's a rather boring walk on a long and straight concrete path along the water's edge, which is why we tend to avoid taking this route at all. 

It's a shame, really, as before reaching the course, the woodland path meanders through an otherworldly, almost primordial landscape, eerily quiet in spite of the fact that it isn't all that far from what we call, for want of a better word, civilization. There's an orchestra of birdsong, and a frog chorus in season, the rhythm section supplied by the resident woodpeckers.

The woodland floor was submerged here, some of the trees left stranded on islands in an impenetrable swamp. And no, there was no need for the No Entrance sign at the bottom left, as we would have been rooted to the spot by tangles of brambles, if the marshy underground hadn't got to us first. The No Entrance signs, by the way, are placed at regular intervals to protect the kingdom of fauna and flora, which are the true rulers here.

Eventually, the course, and its boring concrete path was reached. Apart from a single rower, the expanse of water was empty, just the sky reflected in the water which was gaily festooned with the red and yellow buoys marking the lanes. 

When the exit into the domain beckoned, we walked along a broad semi-surfaced woodland path which took us to the heart of the domain, the delightfully named otter and beaver island.

Here we sat ourselves down on one of the available picnic benches for a breather, just sitting and staring and eating the waffles we'd brought with us, before continuing our journey.

On the final stretch of our walk, before we rejoined our car, we passed a large expanse of meadowland which was completely waterlogged except for the narrow path bisecting it. 

It looked for all the world as if the cotton wool clouds were caught in the grasses and reeds which were desperately trying to keep their heads above water.

And I think I finally caught one of those elusive marsh spirits on camera ...

Back to the land of the marsh spirits

Before I go ahead and plunge myself headlong into my first three-day weekend in months, allow me to put your minds at rest. I survived the move to our temporary office on Thursday without going completely mad. What's more, as correctly predicted by Nancy in her comment on my previous post, it did go surprisingly smoothly, and my colleague and I were sitting at our reinstalled desks by mid-afternoon. 

My blog, as always, is lagging behind the times, so I'll regale you with the full story in a future post and perhaps share a photo or two. Now don't get too excited about that!

Right, let's retrace our steps back to that long-awaited three-day weekend, which started with Friday the 28th of October.

In spite of the best of intentions it was almost 8.30 before we were able to drag ourselves out of bed. This wasn't at all helped by the fact that I hadn't slept very well and woke up feeling moody and blue. In the end, it was the promise of sunshine and highs of 22°C which made us get a move on. Not to mention the fact that, as it was a weekday, Jos had to play paper boy for the elderly lady who used to live down our street.

In order to chase away the dregs of the blues, I wore my favourite colour, which long time readers and followers might remember is green. 

My dress was a sales bargain from H&M about five years ago which, apart from its bargainous price, I was seduced into buying due to its grassy green colour and its pattern: a floral extravaganza in blue, purple, white and pink. It was the latter I picked as an accent colour for my belt, necklace and ring, which were a mix of retail and charity shop finds. My brooch with its pale pink pearly heart was supplied by Think Twice.

The suede ankle boots, a favourite pair which matches the dress's colour almost exactly, are from the Dutch Van Dalen brand and were charity shopped in February 2021.

As soon as Jos returned from his walk into town, we packed a picnic and went off on our weekly round of the charity shops. It was nice to be able to do so on a Friday again and thus avoid Saturday's crowds.

Our first stop was at the shop in nearby Mortsel, where a couple of remnants from the Day of the Charity Shops, which took place the week before, were lurking on the rails.

These two vintage Summer dresses ended up in my basket. The one on the left is from a label called Carine, which I remember from childhood, while the one on the right with its fabulous flower print is from C&A.

Then my eyes alighted on this groovy Lurex infused Crimplene peplum top, which obviously I couldn't leave behind.

After joining Jos for a cup of coffee at the cafeteria, we continued to the second shop about a ten-minute drive away. As it was well past noon by then, we enjoyed a car picnic before heading into the shop.

I was in luck here as well, as I soon found an ankle length denim skirt, which was exactly what I was looking for. I've already got a couple of denim skirts in my wardrobe - both charity shopped in Shropshire - but they are more of a Summer weight. I wanted one warm enough for Autumn and Winter, and this one fits the bill perfectly. No pockets though ...

Angelica is modelling it here with the Zara blouse I found in a charity shop in Bridgnorth in June. 

I ummed and ahed about the pink tweed jacket, which is by the Italian "Notizie di Mariella Burani" label, as surely I've got enough coats or jackets already. But I didn't have one in this particular colour yet, and just look at that lining (above, bottom right).

My final finds were a match made in heaven!  And yes, I bought yet another jacket, but I'd actually been on the lookout for a decent red one for ages. This one is by Gigue and with its chain link detail on the pockets, it does look rather posh, don't you think? 

The skirt, which is lined and does have pockets, is by Gerry Weber. I fell in love with its vaguely abstract flower pattern in cheerful red and green.

Rummaging urges satisfied, we drove to our friends Inneke and Maurice's home to empty their mailbox as they were enjoying a holiday at the seaside. Then, after stopping for groceries, we went home where I spent the rest of the afternoon pottering and reading.

We slept late-ish again on Saturday and what with the impending office move on my mind, I was still feeling a bit grumpy. 

The weather forecast had claimed it would be another Indian Summer's day with temperatures reaching the low twenties. However, it was overcast with no sign of the anticipated sunshine so, while debating whether to go on the walk we'd promised ourselves, I washed my hair and selected my outfit for the day.

With no rain whatsoever on the horizon, we decided to go for it, so Jos made a couple of sandwiches for our al fresco lunch, and we were off. Our destination was another one of our favourite nature reserves, Blaasveldbroek, which is about half an hour's drive from where we live.

By the time we arrived the sun had finally made an appearance and had managed to do away with the persistent layer of grey. 

I couldn't believe we hadn't been here since early March, almost eight months ago, but that is what my blog and journal tell me.  At the time, the first stirrings of Spring were manifesting themselves while now the trees, which were still bare back then, were letting go of a Spring and Summer's worth of leaves.

A crunch-worthy layer of them was carpeting the path which took us past the first of the domain's lakes, while fungi were feasting on tree stumps and rotting vegetation.

We made our way down one of the boardwalks leading from the path to the lake. Standing on the small jetty at the boardwalk's end, we were enraptured by the always enchanting panoramic view across the lake. All was quiet except for the screeching of a couple of bickering gulls and the squawking of a single, disgruntled sounding moorhen.

We would eventually end up walking the path on the far side of the lake, where we found a sheltered bench in a sunny spot for our picnic.

The backdrop of sun-dried reeds was just perfect to show you my outfit.

My vintage faux patchwork skirt yet again started its life at C&A, but followed me home from Think Twice in July 2021. The almost sheer coral crepe-like blouse delicately sprinkled with flowers was a Think Twice find as well, but predating the skirt with several years. 

I took advantage of the sparsely used green in the skirt's pattern by adding a green beaded necklace and a transluscent brooch featuring a green flower. Well, at least my eyes detect it as green, but as I'm slightly colourblind, having problems differentiating between certain shades of blue and green, it might as well be blue.

Picking up the plethora of greys in the skirt, I added a grey leather belt with an oval leather covered buckle. 

At a junction of paths, we always ignore the one leading straight ahead, as this would take us to a stretch of water used for water sports and would entail a boring walk along its tarmacked edge before another entry point into the reserve is reached. Nevertheless, I always take a photo of the tall crooked tree towering over its much smaller neighbours, now reaching its golden leafed branches skywards.

Taking the path veering off to the left instead, we eventually reached the domain's visitor centre, which has plenty of picnic benches and a welcome block of toilets. The building the latter are in have been decorated with fabulous otter and beaver murals, referring to the name of this particular area, Otter and Beaver Island.

While the return of the otter, which was virtually extinct in Flanders, is still patiently awaited from a nearby nature reserve, a family of beavers has already settled themselves in my favourite part of the domain, access to which has been closed-off for several years now.

The family of wooden ducks which has been carved out of a fallen tree trunk turned bench has lately received the company of a beaver at work!

It's a marshy place here, with most of the domain being only two to three metres above sea level, and legend has it that many centuries ago it used to be the home of marsh spirits. Although I still have to meet one of these mythological creatures, I've no doubt they still haunt the area, perhaps hanging out with that equally elusive family of beavers. 

Whatever the case may be, this watery wonderland is truly atmospheric, perhaps even more so when nature winds down and lies dormant in preparation for its next regeneration.

Having almost come full circle, we were nearing the domain's main lake which is a gathering place of waterfowl of all plumage. Long before we could see them, the colony of Canada geese who overwinter here were making themselves heard. Loudly honking, they were once more proclaiming themselves lords and masters of the lake for the season. 

Heads sufficiently cleared of cobwebs, we made our way back to our car and drove home. Which was easier said than done as there was a huge queue on the main road. This made us do a U-turn and make our way home via another route. In doing so, we passed the famous blue lift bridge in Willebroek crossing the Brussels-Scheldt canal, aptly described by a much-loved Flemish folk singer as the monster of iron and steel. The bridge has been protected as industrial heritage since 1992.

I'll be back shortly with what we did on October's final Sunday and beyond. Wishing you a great week ahead whatever your plans are.

Impossible Spring

Having arrived at the Spring Equinox, we can safely assume that Spring - however impossible - has finally sprung!

What's more, we certainly have no reason to complain about the weather lately! Although most days still have a frosty start to them, the sun has been working overtime to crank up the thermostat to double digits by lunchtime. Rain, on the other hand, has been virtually non-existent, which is a blessing after all the precipitation we had to contend with in the past couple of months! 

As usual, my blog hasn't caught up with the times, so that once again this post involves a tiny hop and a skip down memory lane. This brings us to Saturday the 5th of March, which insisted on a repeat of Friday's sunshine and balmy 12°C.

We were raring to go outside and have our faces kissed by the sun once more, and what better way to do so than by going for a walk among nature's soul soothing splendour?

Creatures of habit that we are, we once again set off into the direction of Blaasveldbroek, home of the marsh spirits. 

I was giving Friday's green vintage jacket with its furry collar a repeat outing. In fact, it has been a joy to wear shorter jackets instead of my long Winter coats. As much as I love the latter, I'm starting to get a bit bored of them by now. My weekend bag, walking boots and floral walking stick are all the same as before, but I did wear a different beret and scarf. We'll have a look at the rest of my outfit in a bit.

The sun was shining brightly and it had started warming up considerably by the time we arrived at our destination after a twenty-minute drive. Instead of parking at the main car park, though, we opted for a small car park reached by way of a narrow country lane, the final part bumpy and unsurfaced and ending in a clearing in the woods. As a rule, not many cars are parked here, which makes it feel like a well kept secret.

The wooden gate posts give access to the domain itself. Immediately beyond it lies the first of the reserve's many ponds (top right), the water level of which was higher than we'd ever seen it before.

Instead of walking through the gate, we turned immediately right to walk along a broad tree-lined path (bottom right), with a smaller, dark and mysterious pond to our right.

To the left, a vista of watery reflections opened up, the expanse of blue sky meeting its twin in the looking glass lake. In the Summer months and well into Autumn only glimpses of the lake with its islets and peninsulas are on offer, and it's only in Winter and early Spring that its captivating beauty is fully revealed. 

From the path, a wooden boardwalk leads down to a small platform jutting out into the lake, on which I'm standing in the opening photo of this post. More than once, we've either picnicked or just sat and stared on the bench to the right of the boardwalk just before the platform is reached, but it would have been impossible to do so now without getting our feet thoroughly wet.

There's a second boardwalk a little further on, leading down to a larger platform ending in a railing erected for fishermen to rest their rods on. It's usually occupied, but much to our surprise there wasn't a soul in sight, which must have been a first.

We were admiring the view of the placid lake with its reed bordered edges, when I suddenly spotted the giant sun lounger we sunbathed on during one of our previous visits. It's hidden about half-way among the reeds in the photo on the top right, but I've zoomed in on it in the one on the bottom left.

Soon afterwards, we turned right at a T-junction and skirted the lake until the sun lounger was reached.

Immediately behind it is a closed off path, which used to be our favourite. Nowadays, it's the habitat of a beaver family, which is the reason it has been out of bounds for us humans since early 2019.

We spent 15 minutes or so reclining on the lounger, soaking up sunshine and replenishing our Vitamin D levels. The perfect opportunity to offer you a view of my curry-coloured opaques and the hem of my dress.

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Arriving at another junction, we veered off to the left again. However lovely, the path to the right would eventually end at a stretch of water used for water sports, which would mean a boring walk along its tarmacked edge before another entry point into the reserve is reached.

To the left it was then, negotiating some muddy stretches, with seriously waterlogged meadows to our left. I think I may have mentioned before that huge chunks of this area are barely above sea level!

Eventually we reached the reserve's visitor centre, which has a choice of picnic benches as well as an adventurous play area for children. Much to our delight, there weren't too many people about, so that we had the pick of the benches for once.

But first, let me sit down on a log and show you what I was wearing. This brown, rust and cream vintage dress had been waiting in the wings for a while. Apparently, I last wore it in November 2020, funnily enough combined with the same tights, and with the same brooch pinned to its tie collar. 

At least I wore a different cardigan and belt, both in a contrasting shade of chartreuse, this time!

We sat ourselves down on our favourite bench made from the trunk of a fallen tree and guarded by a pair of bronze beavers. One of them was so kind to keep hold of my scarf and beret while we were taking photos. 

Our sandwiches, meanwhile, attracted the attention of the resident cat who is always lurking around the picnic area looking for people to pester for tidbits. We used to call her a slimmer version of Phoebe, but now she seems quite big compared to petite, small-boned Bess.

After bidding Big Black Cat farewell, we continued our walk alongside swollen brooks and more water meadows. 

Our final stretch took us to yet another of the area's lakes, which seems to be a favourite with the reserve's wildlife. There is plenty of waterfowl here, with the honking of geese and the clucking of moorhens providing the soundtrack. A cormorant sat drying its wings after its tasty lunch of fish.

 

Although the sun still graced us with her presence on Sunday, the temperature had taken a dive to just 8°C. After a morning of chores, it was time to get out my gardening gear for another clearing session, this time tackling the seriously overgrown long border to the right of the garden path and the equally chaotic border in front of the bench.

It was a delight to discover we've got daffs and crocuses. Meanwhile, the lilac pansies and the yellow and pink primulas we bought at the garden the other week are doing their best to cheer up the area under the awning just outside the kitchen door. Just need to get into the watering habit again!

Afterwards, I changed into my real clothes again!

The striped vintage dress I was wearing was bought in the Think Twice sales during a trip to Bruges in April 2019.  Accessorizing it was easy: I just added oodles of pink! Although there isn't any pink in its stripy pattern, there's a splash of lilac, similar in shade to that of the pansies. For some reason, the camera refused to capture it!

I cinched my waist with a textured pink belt, a recent charity shop find I forgot to show you.

Pink opaques, a raspberry beaded necklace and a pink metal flower brooch completed my outfit. My pink longline cardigan has seen better days, so it isn't usually worn outside the house. Nevertheless, its shade of pink was just spot on.

I'll be back with more outfits, charity shop finds and garden updates in my next post. I hope you'll join me again then.

Have a great start to the week!