Chinks in the armour

Can all your worries add a single moment to your life? This quote, apparently  based on a bible verse (Matthew 6:27), was posted by a Finnish Instagram friend yesterday. And while it got me thinking, as of course they don't, quite the contrary I suppose, as a natural born worrywart the act of worrying is not something I can turn off at the flick of a switch.

During the months of semi-lockdown, I found I was able to switch off by keeping myself occupied, thus tricking my cotton-wool wrapped brain into largely ignoring what was happening in the big, bad world outside our home and garden. Spring was in full swing with the promise of Summer ahead. For the longest of time, my brain seemed unable to process reality and, oddly as it sounds, it kept hoping beyond hope that this was all just a nightmare from which, surely, we would wake up anytime soon.

As so far this hasn't happened, and the nightmare continues day after day, chinks have slowly appeared in the armour, allowing negative thoughts to slowly trickle in.

In spite of it all, I seem to be surviving, even if life isn't a bed of roses and my rose-tinted glasses keep get mislaid from time to time. I'm trying to make living in the moment and enjoying the little things my mantra, even if I don't always wake up with a smile on my face. 

A dull cloudy sky was our lot on Friday before last, and the drop in temperature from Thursday's high twenties made me reach for this groovy wrap dress with three-quarter length sleeves. Originally from H&M, I picked it up in a charity shop in June 2019. It must be well over 10 years old and I remember it vividly, as I used to own the dress in a different colourway, all muted greys and browns on white. I always regretted not buying this red, pink and purple version instead, so it was a definite no-brainer when I spotted it on the charity shop rails.

I added a green necklace, which was a flea market find, and secured the dress's wrap ties with a green clip-on hair flower. The brooch, a posy of pale pink flowers, was a retail buy, as was the rosewood flower corsage pinned to my faithful denim jacket, an age-old charity shop find, originally from Mexx.

The wishy-washy weather prompted us to go on a light version of a charity shop trawl, visiting two safe favourites as early in the morning as possible. I'm pleased to report that both shops lived up to expectations in providing a safe shopping experience.

The first shop yielded a floaty Summer dress from Belgian high street chain Cassis, which caught my eye due to its funky print, cap sleeves and three-keyhole neckline. You'll get to see me modelling it on the blog very soon, as I'm actually wearing it as I type!

A book on Art Deco furniture and metalwork found its way into our shopping trolley as well.

The jewellery displays in both shops came up trumps too. There were two rings and a bracelet, a bronze metal butterfly pendant, two cord and painted wood necklace from a Belgian costume jewellery label called Les Cordes and a tiny blue plastic rose brooch. 

I was on the lookout for a lidded glass water jug and for some reason a ribbed glass one with a red plastic lid popped up in my mind's eye. Imagine my surprise when I actually came across exactly what I was looking for in the second shop we visited!

A quick browse through the otherwise uninspiring clothing rails was rewarded with a vintage Dacron polyester dress. Look at that fabulously mad pattern!

We were back home for lunch, after which I retreated to the garden for a deadheading session. It  seems that the remaining Nasturtiums have joined forces in their effort to lay claim to the area next to the bench. They are welcome to do so, as long as they keep doing their set task of covering the pile of dead branches (the remains of our Lilac tree) piled up next to the wall.

We were treated to a sudden, heavy shower mid-afternoon, which saved me the task of watering. 

Instead, my journal tells me, I caught up with blogland and kept checking the news and social media to try and make sense of the new regulations on mask wearing coming into force. A waste of time, it seems, as only in a matter of days this would change yet again.

Saturday was a bit of a glum day, on all accounts. No sunshine, no rain, but quite warm and humid, with temperatures of up to 24° Celsius. 

Wearing this midnight blue dress with exotic white and orange flower print - a Think Twice find in July 2019 - went a long way towards improving my maudlin mood. I added caramel coloured beads, an orange plastic ring and an orange enameled brooch decorated with wildflowers.

We were invited to dinner at our friends Inneke and Maurice and initially I didn't feel like socializing but I'm glad I persevered. The evening out really cheered me up and I felt a whole lot better driving home.

Earlier that day, we had another clearing and reorganizing session, this time concentrating our efforts on one of the cupboards in our sitting room. Again, we got rid of some CDs and magazines, which will soon be making their way to the charity shops. 

Anything we are keeping has been relocated to the drawer unit in the spare room.

This included a selection of my primary school exercise books, which I found at my parents' house. 

A cursory glance through some of them revealed that my handwriting has only marginally improved since I was a six-year-old. 

On the bottom right are some illustrations I cut from a fashion magazine for a social studies subject on clothes-making and fashion. I got full marks on that one. The shape of things to come, I wonder?

Next to a lesson on Autumn, I'd taped some Autumn leaves, which are dating back to 1970 and seem to have survived largely unscathed!

There were some of my drawings as well, all helpfully stamped with a date and subject matter. 

These, apparantly, are white mice, drawn by a five-year-old me! Well, how is one supposed to draw them? I actually quite like these and I'm considering framing them!

Which brings me quite seamlessly to some of the art we do have around the house, tying in with Kezzie's Bloggers Art Gallery, which I wasn't ready to take part in at the time.

We have a myriad of wall art and other objects dotted around the house. Whether they are all to be considered Art, with a highbrow capital letter, is questionable, but they are all things which caught and pleased our eye.

Let's start with some framed prints, watercolours and drawings picked up during our UK holidays over the years.

Above is a print of a watercolour painting of Port Isaac harbour by Cornish artist Elisabeth Clarke, which we picked up in a Port Isaac art gallery during our first Summer holiday together in August 1995.

In the same gallery, we bought this small original water colour by artist Rosemary Grattan. Originally intended as a present for my parents, it graced their living room wall for many years until we brought it home when emptying the house.

This charming miniature - it is only 4 by 4 cm - is a reproduction of a watercolour by artist Fiona Odle, and depicts the Vicar's Close in Wells, Somerset.

An Oxfordshire holiday back in 2007 yielded this framed print of the Tom Tower in Oxford by F. Robson (1880 - 1936), which we bought in a small antiques shop in Burford.

This print of a quintessential English garden by Pamela Derry (1932-2002) is called The Droning of Bees and instantly transports you to a garden at the height of Summer, where the buzzing of bees is the only sound you can hear.

A bit like Dove Cottage's garden then, although on a much smaller scale, and when the neighbours are quiet for once!

So, that's it for now. I hope you'll join me again for my next ramblings.

In the meantime, as always, do stay safe!

A trip to the seaside

As this is the last episode of my travelogue, I thought I'd treat you to a trip to the seaside!

Well, it's what we'd planned to do on Thursday, when the weather decided to play foul. Why not go today instead, we thought on Friday morning, when it looked as if the sun had joined us again.

So, after breakfast, we made our way to a seaside resort called De Haan, also known as De Haan aan Zee or its French equivalent Le Coq sur Mer, less than half an hour's drive from our B&B.

Being there on a weekday and out of season secured us a parking space free of charge, just outside the town's parking disc zone, and only a short walk from the town centre.

What distinguishes this charming little town from its peers along the Belgian North Sea coast is the absence of the ugly high rise buildings which seem to prevail elsewhere.

Instead, De Haan, which is renowned for its immaculately preserved and protected Belle Epoque quarter, has retained much of its old-fashioned seaside charm.

Our visit started at the little tram station, which currently houses the local tourist office. 
Dating from 1902, it is a perfect example of the Anglo-Norman style typical of Belle Epoque architecture.

Would you believe that this charming little building narrowly escaped demolition in 1977? Fortunately, it was saved by the town council, who bought it from the tram company for one symbolic Belgian franc.

Cotton wool clouds were chasing each other across a bright blue sky, propelled by a rather fierce sea breeze and, although I'd ditched the warm coat I was wearing the day before, I was glad that my orange leather jacket was sufficiently windproof to keep the shivers at bay.

Not wanting to make another footwear mistake, I opted for my Clarks Cloudsteppers, but make no mistake: I'm wearing a pair of nude tights, as it war far too chilly to go bare-legged.

We dashed into the tourist office for a leaflet detailing a 3 kilometer walk which would take us on a tour of the town's rich architectural heritage, conveniently starting just outside the tram station.

In spite of our knack of getting lost even with the best of instructions, I'm happy to report that we completed this walk without any hick-ups, although roadworks did their best to thwart us by hiding some of the copper studs the walk is signposted with.

We were joking that we needed some of our money back, though, as quite a few of the houses described in the leaflet were covered in scaffolding!

As is the case with most Belgian coastal towns, tourism started to take off shortly after Belgium's independence in 1831 with the beginning of train and tram transport for the masses. By the early 1900s, there was already a double  track steam tram line connecting almost the entire Belgian coastline.

Most of the coastal towns were mere fisherman's villages back then but, as tourism became a major source of income by the end of the 19th Century, clever businessmen saw a way of making money.

Soon, De Haan boasted a casino, two hotels and thirty or so villas for guests from Bruges, Brussels, Antwerp and Ghent.

The casino, sadly, is no longer there. All that remains are its pagoda-like kiosks, silent witnesses to its glorious and decadent past.

De Haan owes much of its development to three enterprising gentlemen who, in 1889, negotiated a deal with the Belgian government, who owned the dunes between the tram-line and the coast, and were granted a long term lease (or concession) for 90 years on the 50 hectare plot of land.

Our walk now directed us through the picturesque "Concession" quarter, which is how the newly developed area commonly came to be known, with its typical Belle Epoque cottages and villas, characterized by surprisingly modern accents.

I wanted to move lock, stock and barrel into the cottage called Roodkapje (Little Red Riding Hood), even though we were intrigued that, in spite of the fact that her red coat is clearly hooded, she's actually wearing a green headscarf!

And even though we would pass many grander houses on our walk, I found this row of idyllic, white washed villas in a street called Rembrandtlaan particularly enchanting.

These were built between 1925 and 1927 by the architect Valentin Vaerwyck, who added to their romantic character by giving them red pitched roofs and colourful shutters, as well as their own individual details, often including decorative tableaux referring to their names.

We finally ended up at the promenade, walking its length before deciding on a place to have lunch. From our window seat, complete with Tiffany-style lamp, we watched the comings and goings of the out-of-season holiday makers, bundled up against the wind.

After a visit to the Ladies - note the nostalgic sign next to its door on the bottom right - I was ready to continue our walk.

Obviously, no visit to the seaside is complete without a spell on the beach, even if it was cut short by an icy cold wind and the sun playing an annoying game of hide-and-seek.

In fact, we stayed just long enough to take some photographs, offering you a slightly better view of the dress I was wearing. For a close-up, see here. Then we trudged back over wet sand (thank you Morrissey!), me ending up with my shoes full of sand after our final climb up to the promenade.

It was while walking into the direction of the town hall, which used to be a luxury hotel, that the first drops of rain started to fall. We sought shelter on the bandstand of the nearby La Potinière Park, which is the town's green lung, and taking a picture of the grand, turreted building dating from 1989 completely slipped my mind.

The eagle-eyed may have spotted the white bag I'm carrying, which contains the emerald green sandals I spotted in a shoe shop and just had to buy!

Eventually it stopped raining, even if it was just long enough to cross the street before the heavens opened again.

We shared the awning of a bicycle shop with some brightly coloured pedal carts. These carts come in all shapes and sizes, both for children and adults, and often with multiple seats, and can be rented out in all coastal towns. Just like donkey rides in the UK, they are an essential part of a seaside holiday in Belgium.

When I posted a photo of the poodle carts on Facebook, my friend Ingrid told me she had a photo of herself as a little girl riding such a poodle cart, and here she is, on the bottom left!

I'm a little bit envious here, as my parents hardly ever took us to the seaside and I don't remember much from the one visit when I was six going on seven, apart from playing in the sand and being told to beware of jellyfish!

Soon, the sun was out once again, and we continued our walk past wedding cake buildings with turrets and balconies and through streets with yet more traditional holiday villas.

The one on the bottom rights is on a street called Shakespearelaan. Its name is "Savoyarde" and its claim to fame is that Albert Einstein lived here for six months in 1933 after escaping the growing Nazi regime in Germany. 

Although it's a private residence and cannot be visited, the owners thoughtfully put a cardboard Albert Einstein in front of the upstairs window!

Our walk completed, we were in need of some sustenance, which we found in Hotel Des Brasseurs, where we had coffee and a waffle. While it was still very recognizable as the building in the photo, it had obviously lost much of its grandeur since it first opened in the late 19th Century.

On our way back to our B&B, we stopped at the local charity shop. While I was browsing the rails, rain started pelting down, so that there was nothing for it but to browse a little bit longer.

Here's what I found.

First up, a gorgeous King Louie halterneck sundress ...

And then, quite unusually for me, not one but two pairs of trousers!

The wide-legged ones are from Zara which, to be honest, is a shop I never frequent. They caught my eye when someone else was hanging them back on the rails. I thought I'd try them on for fun and quite liked what I saw. 

The cigarette trousers are stretchy and have a tiny print. They'll both be perfect for those not too bright days in the UK!

Well, that was over quickly, wasn't it? I'm already looking forward to our next trip, which will be our big UK holiday. And it looks like we've already got plans for our first day!

Linking to Nancy's Fancy Friday!

Counting daisies

Sunshine was spotlighting our little table when we entered our B&B's breakfast room on Wednesday morning.

Homemade apple and rhubarb juice kick-started a breakfast featuring smooth yogurt and fruit salad, followed by a choice of breads, smoked salmon, and a selection of  local cheeses and meats.

Those with a sweet tooth can sample mini croissants, chocolate buns or raisin rolls. And then there are Veronique's delectable homemade jams, which are also for sale. I'm not much of a jam girl, but Jos bought no less than four different flavours to take home.

After indulging in all these delicious breakfast delicacies, washed down by copious cups of coffee, it was time to depart for our destination of the day.

The sun was out in full force so it was a perfect day for a walk. 

Less than half an hour's drive away, and to the north-east of Bruges, lies a charming little town called Damme.

It is linked directly to Bruges by a perfectly straight canal, the Damse Vaart (Damme Canal), which is one of the most enchanting pieces of nature in Belgium. The canal is lined with magnificent poplars, some of which are over 100 years old, their wind-twisted trunks adding greatly to the charm of the setting.

We left our car in one of the car parks on the edge of the town, on the south side of the canal, where we were instantly blown away by the magical landscape we were faced with. I did a little bit of a double take here ...

We were almost literally blown away too, as a strong, gusty wind was rustling through the trees, almost making off with Jos's straw trilby and depositing it in the canal, so that he swiftly exchanged it for a flat cap.

On the opposite side of the canal, a whitewashed cottage and a majestic windmill could be glimpsed through the reeds.

The walk I'd downloaded took us on a quiet tree-lined path along the 17th Century town ramparts and  moat, the whispering leaves creating a soothing soundtrack. 

We took our time taking in the sights and sounds of nature, encountering a fair amount of wildlife along the way: a cormorant drying its wings after a bout of fishing, a moorhen and her hungry chicks in an island nest of reeds and twigs, a storks nest high up on a pole ... 

Wait ... storks nest? Jos spotted this when a view to the town's church opened up between the trees. After rapturously staring at it, the two birds still in the same position as when we first laid eyes on them, we decided they weren't real. They couldn't be, could they? 

We continued our walk, glancing backwards a couple of times, when Jos suddenly noticed one of the birds was now sitting down in the nest! So, they were real after all!

The church, the tower of which had already revealed itself through the trees, is the Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk (Church of Our Lady), and the town's absolute must-see. 

The church, with its characteristic flat tower, was built in 1225 in the so-called Scheldt Gothic style, which is Romanesque with Gothic elements. During the 14th Century, the church was further expanded and embellished, the golden age of Damme reflected in the scale of the church ,which gradually began to take on the air of a cathedral. Still, the decline had already begun before the last expansion works were completed.

The three-faced sculpture on the bottom left is in a prominent place in the church's courtyard. It is called View of Light and is the work of the Belgian sculptor Charles Delporte (1928–2012).

The inside of the church is equally impressive. Above the nave pillars, rare wooden statues of apostles have survived the 16th Century Iconoclasm, but being so high up, they were hard to photograph satisfactorily, so I snapped some bits and pieces which appealed to me instead.

I was rather taken by the religious tableaux under glass, with the houseplant behind it, which would have been quite at home at Dove Cottage. Obviously, I would have used a more imaginative pot!

Proceeding our way into the town, which is little more than a village with a single main street and square, it was Jos again who spotted this stork nesting upon the chimney of St-Johns Hospital, one of Damme's oldest buildings, founded in 1249.

A few decades ago, the stork  as a breeding bird was almost extinct around these parts. An initiative in the Zwin nature reserve (a silted up tidal area further along on the coast) to re-introduce them proved to be successful, so much so that each Spring these birds can be admired in Damme.

Storks seem to feel quite at home here. They find suitable food in the many meadows. While you often see storks foraging on newly mown grassland in Damme, they are not averse to knocking on people’s doors and begging for food either!

After lunch, we strolled through the town, abandoning our original itinerary, and making up our own, aided by a town trail picked up at the tourist information office.

Damme's rich and turbulent history stretches back to the 12th Century when, after a storm surge which ravaged the North Sea coast in 1134, the channel that linked Bruges to the sea silted up, creating a tidal creek, later to be known as the Zwin. The dykes on the right and left banks of the Zwin were connected, creating a dam, and a fishing village called "Ten Damme" was established.

Philip of Alsace, Count of Flanders, realized the maritime advantages of this little port and in 1180 granted city rights to Damme. Meanwhile, a canal was dug from Bruges to Damme, and the town quickly turned into a dynamic transhipment port.

The town hall remains as a token to the earlier economic strength of Damme. Built in 1464-68, it is an excellent example of late Gothic architecture.

The stone figures on the façade represent Philip of Alsace, Johanna and Margaret of Constantinople, Philip of Thiette, Charles the Bold and Margaret of York.

Fronting the town hall is a statue of the 13th-Century Flemish poet Jacob Van Maerlant, who lived in the town.

While I was climbing the town hall steps for a better view of the intricate statues and gargoyles, Jos rested his feet sitting on a circular stone bench in the square.

I was wearing one of my floral Diolens, in a favourite colour combo of navy, green and white. The weather remained indecisive all day, with the sun regularly playing hide and seek, and I kept my denim jacket on for most of the day. This time, for a change, I pinned an orange felted flower to it.

The town trail then directed us across the canal, where we followed a country lane towards a small nature reserve, called the Schaapskooi (Sheep's Pen), where the town ramparts have been partly reconstructed. Along the footpath through the reserve, you can learn about Damme's military history as well as archaeological research, while enjoying the precious nature around it.

The grassland, where a small herd of donkeys peacefully grazed, was a veritable carpet of daisies.

These were such a joy to behold that I couldn't help but sit down among them. I only have to look at this photo and feel totally relaxed. I'll be using this as my screensaver at work!

Then I even went one step further and ... aah!  Meanwhile, I could feel those donkeys' eyes on me.

After our circuit of the reserve, we retraced our steps to where we'd crossed the canal, but continued onwards instead of recrossing it.

Accompanied by a darkening sky, we made our way toward that mill we'd seen at the start of our walk.

This is the Schellemolen (molen is the Flemish word for mill), built in 1867 on the foundations of an old wooden mill. 

There is no ordinary wind vane on top of the mill: a mermaid - no less - indicates the wind direction here! She even has a name, Cassandra, and legend has it that she drowned in a well in a nearby village.

Talking of legends, Damme is the setting of the legendary 14th Century prankster, Tijl Uilenspiegel, protagonist of the eponymous book by author Charles De Coster, and published in 1867.

This group of sculptures, which we encountered on our way back to the car, was erected in 1979 to celebrate the first centenary of the death of Tijl Uilenspiegel's literary father.

If you look closely, you can see a droplet of water hanging from the donkey's chin. After we visited the mill, we were just in time to dive into a tearoom, before the sluices of heaven were opened.

But never mind, we indulged in a cup of coffee with a bunny cake while it lasted.

Linking my outfit to Nancy's Fancy Friday!

Three years and counting

Isn't it crazy how time flies? It's quite scary, really. One minute I was typing the very first words of my very first blog post and whoosh ... suddenly it's three years later! Yes, dear readers, I've just celebrated my third blogiversary. It was on the 5th of March and no, I didn't forget. I actually started writing this post on the 5th, but by the time you are reading this, it will be three years and counting!

I've never regretted the decision to finally take the plunge for one minute. While I'm the first to admit that blogging takes time (a lot of time) and dedication, it has been nothing but a joy for me.

And while I'm blogging for myself in the first place - my blog is, after all, my on-line diary and photo album combined - it is you, dear readers, who make the experience worthwhile.

Back in March 2018, I wore this dress which used to be in a Flemish film

To celebrate this third year of blogging madness, I trawled through the archives as I thought I'd show you some of my favourites from year three. I was rather spoilt for choice so it wasn't an easy task. In the end, I went with my gut feeling and picked one or two (or three, in one case!) from each month.

Almost coinciding with my blogiversary, I was nominated for a Sunshine Blogger Award by the lovely Veronica of Vronni's Style Meanderings. Thank you, Veronica, the timing couldn't have been more perfect!

I'll be weaving together my answers to Veronica's questions and my favourite photos in this post, so let's waste no further time and get started!

Pattern mixing on an early Summer's day in April 2018

1) Why did you start blogging?

I'd been following various blogs behind the scenes for a couple of years, which inspired me to start my own. I have always regretted not keeping my teenage diaries and have considered starting some kind of diary many a time, as I felt I could do with some structure to my day-to-day life. Apart from holidays and any special occasions, the years just seemed to roll past, leaving me with only the vaguest recollection of what I'd been up to during a particular year.

Walking among daffodils in Bruges, May 2018

Blogging seemed the perfect solution, as it would give me an incentive to keep it up.

Being a keen photographer, I also wanted an outlet for my creativity, as most of my photographs were just languishing in digital files. And, finally, it would give me the opportunity to share my passions, in particular my vintage and second hand finds.

A lawn full of daisies, May 2018

I came up with my blog's name in August 2015, though it still took me until March 2016 to actually take the plunge.

It's only fair to thank my lovely friend Inez for nagging me until I finally gave in!

Frilly blouse and floral trousers, Shropshire, June 2018

2) Has your blog changed since you started it?

Definitely! I thought I would just share some photos of me posing in one of my vintage frocks once or twice a week and show you my latest finds, adding only a few words.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that words would flow so easily, that I'd be blogging about so many different subjects, or that I would be writing series of travelogues. It's not just all about vintage fashion anymore!

And never in a million years did I think that my blog would attract so many readers and followers.

Meeting Vix and Lynn, Chester, June 2018

3) Blogging is time consuming - what are the challenges you find in finding the time?

I am passionate about my blog so, even if I do admit blogging is time consuming, I don't consider this a challenge.

In spite of having a full-time job, I will always find time for things I'm passionate about.

I'd move heaven and earth to get a blog post finished and published, as the rewards far outweigh the time I'm putting in.

Vix and yours truly, Attingham Park, June 2018

4) When do you write a post - in the morning or the evening?

Even though being a full-time working girl means the brunt of my writing is being done in the evenings, I do keep adding to my posts constantly. I often jot things down during my commute, which I will then quickly add to my draft once I get to the office. I find that once I have an opening line, the words just keep flowing.

Instructions for a heatwave, July 2018

Finally, I add photographs and edit my flow of words. 

As one of my trademarks are collages, these often take longer to assemble than it takes to actually write the post. Especially since I'm such a perfectionist!

Garden party, August 2018

5) What is your favourite topic?

I think outfit posts are and and will remain the main staple of my blog, but travelogues have become a close second. I can't wait for our next trip just after Easter!

Jumpsuit at the seaside, September 2018

But I'll write about anything, really: childhood memories, the seasons, walking, nature, my home ... 

I love putting a bit of poetry and things that please the eye in my posts, as I think there is enough ugliness in this world as it is. My blog is my happy place!

In dreamful Autumn, October 2018

6) What's the thing you love most about blogging?

I love the fact that I can share my passions with you, my readers, and I treasure each and every comment I'm getting from you. Blogging is such a great way to meet kindred spirits. I was lucky enough to meet two of you in real life last year. Meeting Vix and Lynn definitely was one of the highlights so far and thinking about those days back in June still makes my heart sing.

Soaking up some sunshine in Zeeland, November 2018

What I didn't expect to happen is that I love writing part of it so much. I did try to put pen to paper before and once even started writing down some autobiographical notes, some of which have already made it into my blog, but I never thought I would do anything with them.  I certainly hadn't the faintest idea whether I could actually write or that people would appreciate my ramblings.

More pattern mixing, December 2018

7) What's the thing you like least?

There isn't anything really. Apart from the odd, annoying, spam comment, I haven't got anything negative to report about my blogging experiences.

Walking on Christmas Day 2018

8) Where do you see yourself and your blog  in five years time?

I'm not in the habit of  thinking too far into the future. I'm living in the moment and I'm only thinking ahead in bite-size little chunks.  But I'd like to think I'll still be blogging then. Hopefully with a bit more time to spend to spend once I'm no longer working full time.

Double trouble, January 2019

I've thought long and hard about whether to nominate anyone at all. In the end, I decided not to nominate anyone in particular. 

Brightening up a January day

If anyone wants to take up the challenge, here are my questions:

1. What inspired you to start blogging?
2. How does your blog influence your daily routine?
3. How long does it take you to write an average blog post?
4. When and where do you take your photos, and who is your photographer?
5. What is it that you enjoy the most about blogging?

Answers on a postcard, please, or you could just mention them in your comments. If you're a blogger, you could even write a blog post featuring my questions. It's all up to you!

Muppet coat and snakeskin booties, February 2019

Linking to Patti's Visible Monday and Mica's Weekday Wear Linkup as usual.