A glimpse of Spring

In the past week, we've been to Bruges and back. The weather gods have been reasonably well behaved, all things considered - although it seems they still didn't get the Spring menu - and my camera has been working overtime. 

As I'm due back at the office tomorrow, it'll be a while until I've uploaded all my photos and written the first installment of our travel adventures. So, here's one I prepared earlier, so to speak, catching up with what has been happening in my life in the week or so preceding our little getaway!

The weather forecast for Saturday the 6th of April spoke of temperatures reaching the low twenties, which had us shaking our heads in disbelief. But lo and behold, they got it right for once, so out came my first short-sleeved frock of the season.

I picked up this blue retro-style Who's That Girl dress with its green flower print and front zip in a charity shop back in November. Bare legs would have been more appropriate on a day like this, but as we'd planned a walk in the wilderness, I didn't want to tempt fate and have the local population of insects feast on them. So, I wore a pair of green opaques, matching both the flowers in my dress and the camisole I was wearing underneath. 

Not matching anything in particular but chosen as they caught my eye that day were a Bohemian beaded brooch, a chunky multi-coloured necklace and an orange plastic ring, all picked up at either flea markets or charity shops. 

My sage green crepe soled Mephisto ankle boots were charity shopped too and are just the perfect footwear for muddy Spring walks.

And muddy it was! Following a brainstorming session during lunch that day, we decided to risk it and drive down to Jos's old neck of the woods: the ex-clay pit based nature reserve in Terhagen.

Those of you who have been following my blog for a while might remember that the mud here isn't exactly of the ordinary, run of the mill kind, but rather of the stick-to-your boots and try-to-suck-you-in variety. 

What's more, months of rain had made some of the areas quite unsurpassable. 

One of the makeshift little bridges, for instance, had been swallowed by the swollen brook it ineffectually tried to cross (above, bottom right). To give you an idea, this is what it looked like in May of last year.

Instead of a brilliant blue, though, the sky was almost colourless, veiled with a haze which unfortunately obscured the sun for the better part of the day. 

In fact, although the temperature had dropped to 19°C and it was a bit windy, Sunday was a much better day, the sky a clear blue canvas for the sun to play with.

No walking for us that day, however, at least not in the great outdoors. Instead, we would be trawling the aisles of this month's edition of the indoor flea market!

Obviously, I couldn't let the side down and needed to dress to impress my flea market fans.

My green and white plaid skirt, its fabric a polyester jersey knit, was an old Think Twice find, while the floral extravaganza of a blouse was picked up in a charity shop in March 2019.

My deer brooch - if you can spot it among the flowers - as well as the jauntily knotted scarf came from a long-gone vintage shop, while the mottled green beaded necklace was once again supplied by the charity shops. 

At my waist, I was wearing one of the stretchy belts I picked up at a bargain shop two days earlier. 

My feet were happy all day in the pale pink suede ankle boots, which I snaffled in the closing-down sale of the Belgian branch of New Look in 2019.

But what about the hat, I can hear you thinking. Well, it was that day's final flea market find!

Most of the hats I come across are far too large for my tiny head, so it was nothing short of a miracle that this one was a perfect fit. Here's a closer look at fabric flowers which trail all around its navy band.

On its left is the day's first find: a yellow pleated fabric belt, which cost me all of € 2.

Obviously, I also added to my burgeoning brooch collection.

The large jewelled lizard, the yellow resin umbrella and the climbing frog with its jewelled limbs are my favourites, and yes, that is a Christmas tree on the top right. It's so exquisitely made that - admittedly after a moment's hesitation - I decided it needed to come home with me!

There is, by the way, no need to curb my enthusiasm when it comes to buying brooches. I've been given no less than 8 more of those shallow wooden drawers by Jos's friend, and he's told us that he's got plenty more if need be as he is rearranging his collection of coins whose homes they used to be.

My final find of the day was this vintage 1940s/1950s hair clip display card, complete with its pairs of blue, pink and faux-tortoiseshell celluloid hair clips.

The weather in April's second week was yet another mixed bag, sunny and warm(ish) one day and dull, grey and stormy with a significant drop in temperature the next.

There's nothing of note to tell you about it, just your usual humdrum office week punctuated by the usual cappuccino catch-up with Inez, and a lunch break appointment at my hairdresser's.

Oh, and we were looking after our opposite neighbours' cats, Bobby and Billie, while they were on a city trip. They would return the favour and look after Bess while we were in Bruges!

Friday rolled along in no time, and what's more, the sun had decided to join us again. The day's highs of a mild 20°C were a bit of a wrench though, as the forecast for the week ahead - and thus for our Bruges break - was nothing short of horrific ...  

For a day of pottering and running a couple of errands, I wore a red floral Diolen skirt from Think Twice, combined with a navy blue Western style blouse by Who's That Girl, which was part of a haul from an outlet shop. To the latter, I pinned the bee brooch I found at the flea market on Sunday.

The stretchy belt with its multi-coloured round plastic buckle was an old high street find and - if I remember correctly - I picked up the necklace in a charity shop.

 

In spite, or perhaps because of our neglect, the garden isn't doing too bad, really. At this time of year, there's a sea of bluebells, and it is simply inundated with self-seeded honesty.

Two more varieties of the cheerful daffodil have joined the tête-à-têtes in their cones and pots: on the top left, Golden Carpet, and on the bottom right, the deliciously scented Bridal Crown. 

The sun remained with us on Saturday - we were the 13th of April by now - and at a delicious 24°C it was a glorious Spring day.

For our walk in Duffel park, I donned the vintage short-sleeved millefiori dress I plucked from our local charity shop's rails in February. The pale green diamond patterned cardigan by Zoë Loveborn was charity shopped around the same time. It was the very first outing for both items.

Another recent find was the Italian made tan leather shoulder bag, which has already been admired by many. The black stretchy belt was part of the previous week's bargain shop haul.

Although we'd only been here on Easter Sunday, it was well over a year since we laid eyes on Ter Elst castle, which lies at the park's far end amid a little park of its own.

The origins of the castle date back to the Middle Ages. In the 15th century, it regularly welcomed notable guests, such as Margaret of York and Philip the Fair.  From the 17th century onwards, it was used as a vicarage. In 1799, the castle was seized by the French occupiers and sold. Over seventy years later, the estate was given an industrial purpose: a brickworks operated here until World War I.  After it was heavily damaged 1914, the castle fell further and further into ruin.

The municipality of Duffel bought the castle domain from its private owner in 1972 and, after some well-needed restorations, the castle ruins and park were opened to the public in 1982.

However, it has been many a year since the public was allowed to cross the bridge over the moat and wander among the ruins, as due to stability problems they are once again in need of restoration. 

With the walls ready to crumble and the towers leaning ever more precariously, we were relieved to see that scaffolding had been erected on the inside a couple of years ago and that a start had been made to stabilize the building.

But although there has been talk of ambitious plans, which will include reconnecting the walls and adding a glass roof to the Great Hall, while in the courtyard the contours of the vanished castle will be made visible with variations in the floor pattern, it still looked suspiciously the same as it did on our last visit, in February 2023.

I'm leaving you now with this vision of Springtime, a clump of cheerful red and yellow tulips among the lush green vegetation of the park.

At barely 8°C, we would have needed our Winter coats, scarves, hats and perhaps even a pair of gloves to walk here today.

Hello Spring, where are you?

Back to the Enchanted Place

I might not be the world's biggest Christmas fan, but if there's one thing I'm absolutely looking forward to as soon as the calendar's page is turned to the year's final month, it must be my week off between Christmas and New Year. This is, in fact, the only time of year when we're at home together for any length of time which does not involve any forward planning whatsoever. As the darkest days of the year are upon us, this usually means sleeping in until there's a smidgen of light on the horizon, followed by a leisurely breakfast and lingering in our dressing gowns nursing cups of coffee or tea until the mood takes us to get dressed. Depending on the weather, we might go for a walk or a rummage, or perhaps just stay at home and read. Apart from the odd food shop, household chores are confined to the bare minimum so that by the end of the week dust bunnies are having a field day here at Dove Cottage!

At my office, the final working week of the year is always a hectic one, involving the necessary preparations, not just for our week off, but in anticipation of our return in January as well. So, although I wasn't feeling too clever after succumbing to the lurgy during the weekend, I went in for a couple of hours of slog on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, collapsing on the sofa as soon as I got home. I was obliged to call in sick on Thursday and Friday, though, as lack of sleep and continuing coughing fits had left me totally exhausted. I didn't get dressed on those days, slept a lot and in my waking moments read a couple of pages in the two books I currently had going, none of which was able to grab my attention for longer than the odd 15 minutes.

The only ray of sunshine came in the form of a lovely handwritten card from Kezzie, in which she'd kindly included one of her sustainable snowflakes made from the insides of envelopes! 

I was feeling marginally better on Christmas Eve, which prompted me to get dressed and even attempt a walk into the village to pick up some Christmas cards for our neighbours. But although the fresh air certainly did me some good, I felt quite exhausted by the time I got back. 

An overdose of tea lashed with honey, throat lozenges, cough syrup and painkillers had been playing havoc with my appetite as nothing tasted quite as it should have. I was actually dreading our Christmas Day supper which for the last 28 years has consisted of gourmet, which is kind of a thing in the Low Countries, involving a variety of tiny pieces of meat one fries individually in tiny frying pans on a raclette-like device. As I wasn't exactly looking forward to all that effort, Jos just fried up all the pieces in a large frying pan, and we enjoyed them with potato salad, a selection of veggies and home-made cocktail sauce. And you know what: it tasted heavenly! 

The weather was simply too atrocious to venture outside and go for a little stroll to build up my strength. Instead, it was a lazy day of pottering, reading and listening to the handful of guilty pleasure Christmas albums which thankfully only come out of hiding once a year. 

In total contrast to the Pyjama Days of yore, I got dressed after breakfast, only changing into my jammies after supper. The dress I was wearing wasn't my original choice, which felt a bit restrictive for a day spent mainly on the sofa. Consequently, I was already wearing the mustard opaques and decided they didn't look half-bad with my final choice of frock, a vintage shift dress picked up at Think Twice.

More mustard was added with my charity shopped H&M batwing cardigan and one of the perspex rings I found on Rita's flea market stall the other week. The pansy brooch came from Cardigan antiques market while the 1960s style necklace was an old retail buy.

Boxing Day was another grey and rainy day, the initial mild temperature of 11°C dropping to 5°C and below from late afternoon onwards.

The forecast had been for some sunny spells in the afternoon, but they never materialized, although it did remain dry for a couple of hours. I wasn't feeling very energetic - emerging from the dreaded lurgy has been a slow process, sometimes involving one step forward, two steps back - and as brain fog had once again descended I wasn't too keen to leave Dove Cottage's confines.

Nevertheless, I accompanied Jos to the carwash, stopping at the charity shop in Lier along the way.

Seeing the outfit photos we made in our new favourite spot that day, it seems that although I was looking a bit pale, aided by some carefully applied make-up I did manage to look better than I actually felt. 

I was wearing yet another Think Twice find, a faux-patchwork patterned button through vintage dress, which I often seem to combine with shades of aqua. My King Louie cardigan and H&M beaded necklace were both charity shop finds. Only my ring and belt were bought on the high street.

Pickings were meagre at the charity shop that day. That, and the fact that my heart wasn't really in it. I still managed to snag a funky pair of Gabor sandals which, with the reduction our loyalty card entitled us to, cost us all of € 1,25. 

Finally, we woke up to a clear day with lots of sunny spells on Tuesday. I also woke up feeling more clear-headed than I'd had been in over a week. Not wanting to tempt fate, however, we decided to take it easy in the morning and then go for a short walk after lunch. 

The mercury would eventually climb to 8°C that day, although it did feel quite a bit chillier than it actually was. Or perhaps it was just me. In any case, I opted for a warm woolly skirt from Think Twice, worn with a vintage C&A jumper charity shopped back in January.

The bottle green mock croc belt was a charity shop find as well, while the green-based enamelled brooch with its posy of pansies pinned to the jumper's asymmetrical collar was among my latest flea market haul.

Meanwhile, the sun was streaming through our curtained front door window, creating a kind of magic lantern effect, so wild horses couldn't have kept us inside.

So, wasn't it just our luck that the minute we'd set off to our chosen destination, a smattering of tiny raindrops appeared on our car's windscreen?

Quickly consulting our phone's weather app told us this was supposed to be just a blip so we decided to proceed regardless. 

Although the sun only put in another appearance when on our way home, any sign of rain had fortunately disappeared by the time we'd reached the park in Duffel.

What was supposed to be just a short limb-stretching and head-clearing walk turned out to be quite a bit longer than intended. Drawn by the magical orange-red glow of the carpet of bald cypress leaves which is such a feature here in Winter, we soon veered off the path we'd initially taken and and crossed an expanse of minor mud into its direction.

I've lost count of the times we have walked here over the years, often preceding or following a rummage at the nearby charity shop, which this time we gave a miss.

There's something to delight us here in every season, from the first hesitant signs of Spring to the exuberance of the Autumn hues, but there's definitely something to be said for its relative bleakness in the depths of Winter. The steel grey mirror of the pond reflecting the row of skeleton trees standing sentinel on the edge of the River Nete's towpath beyond. The squidgy, squelching muddy tracks lying in wait to suck you in. The moss and lichen covered tree trunks and the frost-bitten remains of Summer's bounty.

It was almost inevitable that we would end up at the castle ruins which funnily enough could be heard before its wonky towers appeared between the tangle of bare branches. One of the towers was wearing a crown of bickering gulls, while atop another, the resident pair of Egyptian geese were loudly honking, leaving all and sundry in no doubt that they were the lords of the castle.

The castle ruins greatly add to the appeal of the park, which once again proved to be the perfect poetic backdrop to the year's final post, same as it did in 2016 and 2017. 

An enchanted place, with the birds still the keepers of our secrets ...

Much as I'm eagerly awaiting the restoration of the castle ruins so that they can once again be visited freely, I will most certainly miss the state of wild abandon surrounding them now.

The faded coat of arms adorning the rusty wrought iron gates barring the bridge leading over the moat. The weeds and grasses and tendrils of ivy gleefully, luxuriously, taking hold of what for all intents and purposes is rightfully theirs.  

The split and hollow trees, brittle and frail, yet not giving up on life, even if they're only playing host to strapping Winter greens.

The rusty remains of a bike, stolen and discarded, hidden away among Summer's growth until its corpse is revealed in Winter.

We climbed to the tow path, leaving the already dying light behind us, the sun's ever weakening rays casting an eerie glow on the granite grey river. Far away, too far to catch with my phone's camera, a train chug-chugged over the railway bridge, its cadence mingling with the cries of the birds and the echoing snatches of people's voices drifting over from the opposite side of the river.

And here we were back in the park itself, where the Brutalist fountain, finally relieved of its crippling layer of moss and weeds, was rippling the almost-black, opaque water of the pond. Back among the fiery fairy dust of the bald cypress leaves. 

Now all that's left to do is wave my magic wand and make 2022 go away. 

Here's to an infinitely better 2023! 

Happy New Year!

Oh August

 "If you walk along the main street on an August afternoon there is nothing whatsoever to do."

When I first read this line, which is from the opening chapter of Carson McCullers' novella "The Ballad of the Sad Café", as a 15-year old in a school room, it struck a chord with me, as yes, that's exactly what it was like on the main street of the quiet backwater I was living in. 

This rang especially true in August, with half of the shops closed for their Summer holiday: the butchers and the bakers which were still plentiful back then, before they closed down, one by one, for good.

 My mum had sent me off on a treasure hunt for the last loaf of bread in the village, and as I cycled up and down the main street, finding all the shutters closed, drops of sweat trickled down my back and the oppressive heat was just as stifling as the air of boredom which hung over the village. It was, after all, the long hot Summer of 1976 and there really was nothing whatsoever to do.

Fast-forward forty-six years, and I'm still living in the same village. Or rather, I came back here after an 18-year hiatus when I was in my late thirties. The butchers and bakers have been replaced by generic chain stores and a handful of fashionable boutiques. Yet, on a hot August afternoon, the main street is as deserted as it was back then, except for the steady trickle of cars passing through. 

This year, it feels as if August has passed us by, its days a blur of indistinguishable hot and noise-filled ones. But you've put up with my moaning for long enough now, so perhaps it's time to have a look at what I've been wearing to combat the recurrent heatwaves. 

My wardrobe full of Diolen delights has hardly seen the light of day! 

My vintage cotton Madras check dress made an appearance on Tuesday the 9th of August when, after a couple of days when the mercury didn't climb higher than a moderate 25°C, we were back into the high twenties. 

I took advantage of both the white and the red in its check for my accessories. I hadn't worn the white pleated leather belt in a while and in fact, I'd completely forgotten about it until I came across a photo on my blog in which I was wearing it. 

The weather gods, intent on making us melt into puddles of sweat, sent 31°C our way on Wednesday the 10th. 

Enter this mid-century cotton cap-sleeved frock, in darkest blue patterned with red and white, a Think Twice sales bargain back in June 2019. 

I picked up the red with my ring, necklace and belt and added a vintage celluloid Scottie dos brooch to the dress's square neckline.

Tuesday's red Gabor sandals would have been perfect here, but both they and my toes had had a mishap on my way home that day. Having had to jump out of the path of an e-scooter, whose driver clearly thought the red traffic light wasn't meant for him, I cut two of my toes on some random pieces of debris lying in the gutter. Luckily the cuts were only superficial, but they bled nonetheless, resulting in some unsightly stains on my sandals, which I haven't yet had the get-up-and-go to try and remove.

It wasn't the only mishap that would befall me that week, you see. On Friday evening - we were the 12th by now - while suffering a blinding headache as a result of yet more noise from next door, I stumbled and fell while upstairs, leaving me with bruises on my upper left arm and both of my knees. In fact, my left knee was rather swollen and was rapidly turning black and blue. Fortunately, the swelling soon came down after the application of a spray given to us by our other neighbour's son.

The weekend ahead, which was an extended one as Monday the 15th was a bank holiday in Belgium, was set to become another hot one, with temperatures well over 30°C. 

As much as we would have loved to escape, it simply was too hot to do anything much. The only place where it would be reasonably bearable was the seaside, but that was a definite no-no because of the bank holiday weekend. It was later reported to have been one of the busiest weekends ever!

And then there was my poor knee which I didn't want to put too much of a strain on, even if it wasn't as painful as I'd expected it to be the next day.

We had a - fruitless - errand to run on Saturday, after which we battened the hatches at Dove Cottage and tried to keep cool.  On our way back, we stopped off at the Museum of Folklore for some local Lady of the Manor poses.

Both the palazzo trousers and the peasant-style blouse were sales bargains from the high street. I was wooed by the trousers in the Summer of 2020. They're from Mango and are easily the most comfortable trousers I've ever worn. Apart from their Paisley-esque pattern, they have pockets and huge splits at the sides allowing for the necessary ventilation on a hot day.

The blouse is from New Look and has been gracing my wardrobe for several years. It might even be my most worn item of clothing on the blog!

Flat yellow sandals, my enamelled butterfly brooch, and a charity shopped black and white necklace completed my outfit.

Sunday was the hottest day of the week, and if I remember correctly I wore a vintage playsuit all day. No photos were taken, though.

We dug up our holiday brochures for our upcoming yearly trip to Belgium's west country - if there are no further mishaps, we are leaving tomorrow! - and jotted down some ideas. I have a feeling Bess knew what we were up to, as she did her very utmost to thwart our plans!

Hallelujah, it actually rained overnight, and there were puddles! Well, there was one on the towpath next to the park in Duffel where we went for a walk on Monday, relishing the fact that the temperature had dropped to just 23°C. 

However, if the moody sky held the promise of more rain, it never materialized. In fact, by the time we'd completed our circuit of the park, the odd patch of blue was starting to appear.

Adjacent to the towpath and the park are the ruins of castle "Ter Elst", whose origins date back to the 12th century. Over the years, we have watched the decline of the ruin with more than just a hint of sadness.

Long gone are the days when events took place in its courtyard, as due to stability reasons the site had to be closed down in 2012 and the wrought iron gates giving access to the bridge have remained firmly padlocked ever since.

We once went to a flea market here, on yet another hot August day, when a brass band was playing in the castle grounds, the bandleader's well-meant but hilarious comments having us in stitches.

But there is good news at last, as the site is scheduled to receive a grant next year, so that the long-awaited renovation work can finally be tackled. In fact, a start has already been made in stabilizing the building.

The renovations will include reconnecting the walls and adding a glass roof to the Great Hall so that it can be used for events. In the courtyard, the contours of the vanished castle will be made visible with variations in the floor pattern, and it is meant to become a resting place for walkers and cyclists. To this end, a new foot and cycle bridge connecting the castle island with the towpath will be constructed.

It all sounds very promising, although I'm sure the ruin will lose some of its charm in the process as well.

Now, let's have a look at what I was wearing. This vintage cotton frock with its gathered cap sleeves was just the ticket that day. It was also long enough to hide my injured knee, although of course I am happy to oblige and show it to my faithful readers and followers :-)

That isn't real broderie anglaise, by the way, it is part of the pattern. The dress is also sparingly sprinkled with blue daisies, which obviously rules out the use of any other brooches than the one I'm wearing here.

As I am fastly running out of time, I thought I'd whizz you through some of the outfits I wore in August's penultimate week.

Here, my flower-infused cotton 1970s skirt from Think Twice went hand in hand with a charity shopped King Louie blouse, to which I'd pinned a vintage brooch picked up from a flea market. The necklace with its tiny orange tiles was charity shopped as well, but the black stretchy belt with its square buckle was a recent high street buy.

Both the skirt and the blouse in my next outfit are from the Belgian Who's That Girl label, and both were recent charity shop finds. Again, only the stretchy belt was bought brand new on the high street. 

The massive bird on a branch brooch - which neatly ties in with the birds and twigs pattern of the skirt - was a charity shop find, as was the mustard cardigan, while the necklace came from a long-gone vintage shop. 

As I was browsing Facebook one evening, I was horrified to read that there had a been a fire in the tower building in Antwerp which my office looks out on . They are currently renovating the building, which was completed in 1931 and hailed as Europe's firs skyscraper. The project will take many years to finish and has now been the source of noisy goings-on for about a year. There really is hardly any peace and quiet to be found in my life at the moment. 

This is my current view from my 5th floor office window, so why don't we have a look at something a bit more cheerful instead?

This floaty, chiffon-y dress was another Think Twice find, picked up many years ago. The dress's cerulean blue backdrop is patterned with black and white squiggles and a garland of blowsy flowers near its hemline.

More black and white was added with the chevron patterned belt with its round, black wooden buckle, and the rim around the roses in my brooch.

My bright pink cardigan and my favourite necklace from Accessorize were both retail purchases which have by now stood the test of time.

Cool cottons were once again represented in one of my favourite outfits of the last couple of weeks.

Again, both the skirt and the blouse were charity shopped. The striped skirt, which is scattered with rosebuds in various colours, was originally from H&M, and picked up in a charity shop between lockdowns in July 2020. The orange and pink patterned blouse, which is from the Belgian Mer du Nord label, was a more recent find.

Not wanting the hassle of too many accessories on this +30°C, I kept them to the bare minimum, only adding a vintage, navy and white beaded necklace and one of my contemporary cat brooches.

And speaking of cats, how about some photos of our darling little monster to end this post.

I'm sure she'll miss cuddling as much as we will while we're on our break, but we'll make up for it in just over a week!