I ended my last post with a promise to show you my latest charity shop finds so, before anything else, let's have a look at the stuff that followed me home on Friday the 5th of May.
As usual, we visited two shops. This time both were from a local chain of shops called Opnieuw & Co. which, for want of a better word, translates as Afresh & Co. Established in 1995 when they opened their first shop, they celebrated their 25th anniversary in 2020 and now have a total of 5 shops in the area.
Their shop in the nearby town of Mortsel was the second one to open and the first one we ever visited, which must have been back in the early noughties.
It was the first one on our itinerary that day as well and, while Jos was having a coffee in the onsite cafeteria, I plucked two items from their well-stocked clothing aisles.
First up, an exotically patterned and frilly butterfly sleeved Summer top from a label called Daniela Cool, which I couldn't find anything about apart from the fact that apparently it is Italian.
Even less is known about the origins of the yellow dress with its pattern of navy, green and purple flowers, as only its care label is present and correct.
Our next stop was a bit further down the road, at the current premises of the shop in Lier. It's already the third location for this shop which initially was the first to open back in 1995 in an atmospheric old cinema in the town centre. They had to move out due to safety reasons in 2007 and, after a couple of years in much smaller and rather cramped premises, a huge pop-up shop was opened in 2019 and is still going strong to this day.
Two snuggly cardigans ended up in my basket that day. The oatmeal openwork cardigan is from C&A and still got its tags, one of which proudly proclaims its 20% alpaca content.
The caramel bobble knit cardigan is from the Belgian Rhétorique label. Established in the early 80s, the label was a big success at the time, with 18 shops of its own.
This blue and white plaid Gor-Ray skirt caught my attention and turned out to be a perfect fit. Being 100% pure new wool, it'll probably be stashed away until the Autumn, unless the weather gods keep forgetting what season it actually is.
The fuzzy snow leopard print belt was a no-brainer too.
It was when we were queueing at the till that we found Jesus! € 4 Jesus, to be exactly. He was loitering with a less handsome but somehow more expensive namesake and Our Lady of Lourdes and, in spite of not having had a wash in absolutely ages, it was obvious that he needed to come home with us!
The next day, Saturday the 6th of May, while still in my dressing gown after breakfast, I gave him a thorough clean, removing decades' worth of dust and grime. He's now taking pride of place on the dining room window sill.
The day had once again gone off to a chilly start, but with the mercury eventually expected to climb towards 20°C, I daringly opted for short sleeves! To be on the safe side, though, I wore a thin knit green vintage jumper with white accent stripes at the collar.
I was lucky enough to find the skirt, by Belgian designer Nathalie Vleeschouwer, for € 4,50 in a charity shop in March 2021.
I'm sure my gold and silver patterned Western style ankle boots need no introduction. They've been on constant rotation since I picked them up in the big second-hand popup shop in Antwerp a couple of weeks ago.
The belt is the only retail buy here, my brooch with its delicate floral embroidery having its origins in an antiques shop in Carmarthen, Wales (part of this haul), and the enamelled necklace painted with roses being a flea market find back in October 2017.
While the world and his wife were watching the Coronation, I photographed Friday's finds, ironed a pile of fresh from their off-season suitcase Summer skirts and spent some time pottering around the garden.
Dove Cottage's garden is at its lushest this time of year when it's on the cusp of turning into the wilderness it usually is in high Summer. We'd tamed it somewhat during Lockdown in 2020 but neglect set in again after last Summer's neighbourly building debacle. At least all that fresh greenery does its best to detract from the building materials still stacked sky-high against the garden wall in our neighbour's garden, and the far-too-heavy-to-lift bags of compost and building rubble mixture at the back of ours.
I was standing on a chair to photograph the hanging bucket of strawberries (below, top left) and the pink veined Petunias in the hanging basket (below, top right), when a hungry blue tit landed on the feeder. I was able to make a quick photo (above, bottom left) before he flew off again.
It always gladdens my heart to see my favourite flowers come up again year after year. It's impossible to count the number of flowers in our Geranium phaeum (above, bottom right) which, judging from the buzzing sound emanating from its direction, are greatly appreciated by the local population of bees. And look, there's my beloved Aquilegia Nora Barlow too, its flowers ballerinas with frilly tutus. Not as many as in previous years, though.
After lunch, we made another trip to the garden centre, where we bought a bee hotel - to dissuade the solitary bees from using the stoppers of our roller blinds - some Busy Lizzies and Million Bells and a couple more shade-loving perennials to put in pots in the passageway, which I'm planning to turn into a green and leafy jungle to sit out in.
By the time we got back, smoke had descended on our garden courtesy of our neighbour's impromptu barbecue, so I thought I'd leave any planting for the next day.
Unfortunately, Sunday the 7th of May brought more rain, but with the temperature being a mild 18°C, I decided to go ahead regardless.
I started by planting the trailing geraniums we'd bought the other week in the enamelled cones recently vacated by the tête-à-tête daffs and then went on to fill the half basket between them with two different coloured Million Bells (a.k.a. Calibrachoa), in yellow and purple.
Then, with the rain becoming heavier, I quickly rescued two terracotta pots from the back of the garden to temporarily house the perennials.
With no letup in the rain until late afternoon, I finally managed to finish the wardrobe exchange, so that all my short-sleeved dresses are now within easy reach. Now all I need to do is vacuum the bags of off-season clothes for their seasonal sojourn in the linen chest, but I'd run out of steam by then.
I also managed to put aside one bag for charity and two bags of items to sell on our flea market stall in July.
Sunday's outfit was built around this vintage short-sleeved chocolate brown dress patterned with orange, yellow, green and light brown flowers.
A quick search of my blog revealed that I'd last worn it in May 2021 when, funnily enough, I wore the same green stretchy belt and orange tiled necklace with it. Different shoes, though. I only came across this pair of unworn chunky orange slingback shoes in a charity shop last September.
With short-sleeve season upon us, a pair of bangles came out to play. I can only wear these on non-office days, though, as I have to remove them for typing!
Other accessories were a brown plastic ring with a bit of sparkle (old retail buy) and a gold-framed ceramic brooch which was a recent flea market find.
With Daphne Du Maurier's Rebecca being one of my all-time favourite books, I was dying to read the autobiographic Myself When Young, which I picked up in a charity shop in April.
Written when she was in her seventies and published in 1977, the book is based on the diaries she kept between 1920 and 1932, beginning with her earliest memories and her desperate ambition to succeed as a writer culminating in the publication of her first book, The Loving Spirit, in 1931. The book ends with her marriage to Major Frederick "Boy" Browning in 1932.
Loathing London life, she always dreamed of moving to Cornwall and in 1926 the Du Maurier family decided to look for a second home there. Arriving in Bodinnick, Daphne, her mother and her two sisters spotted Ferryside, the house that was to become her first foothold in Cornwall (below, top right).
It was while climbing the hill at nearby Gribbin Head in 1926 that Daphne first spotted the roof tops of Menabilly (above, bottom left) hidden in the trees. On her first attempt to reach the house itself, she found it set well back into the woods, at the end of a long and sprawling driveway lined with high banks of scarlet Rhododendrons. Sounds familiar? Well, the experience stuck in her memory and would eventually be the inspiration for Manderley in Rebecca, published in 1938.
She would later end up living at Menabilly with her husband and three children from 1943 until 1967.
In her book, she refers to Vanishing Cornwall, a non-fiction book she published in 1967. It rang a bell with me and, although I am pretty certain I own the book, I couldn't find it anywhere. Instead, I found Enchanted Cornwall (above, bottom right), which claims to be a pictorial memoir. I've got it lined up for one of my next reads.
I was also reminded of the hot August day in 1995, when Jos and I walked in Daphne's footsteps on the Gribbin Head promontory, skirting the Menabilly Estate and passing the delightful Polkerris and Polridmouth coves.
I even dug out my old photo albums for you, to share some embarrassing photos of Jos filming himself while climbing a style and me sporting a rather unflattering pair of shorts and the same hairstyle as my current one!
It had been a long hot Summer which followed a rainy Spring. I remember the weather turning on the day my sister got married in June, so perhaps there is hope for us yet.
However, the landscape is looking rather parched in my holiday snaps, and I remember there having been quite a few cliff fires, which is not what we want this Summer either.
