A little update

 Although I won't be returning to blogland just yet, I thought I'd drop in and give you an update on how Jos is doing.

But first things first. I would like to thank those of you who left such heartwarming comments on my previous post and those of you who kindly checked in with me through private messages.

After having spent 3 weeks in hospital during which he had surgery, Jos was finally allowed to come home last Wednesday. He's still got a way to go before he'll be back on his feet so we're taking it day by day, cherishing every step into the right direction.

Time has been unhurried but relentless, and it's truly mind-boggling that most of January has come and gone while we've been living this half-life which feels light years away from the one we used to live before our world came tumbling down.

Thankfully I had the pleasure of Bess's company while Jos was in hospital. 

She insisted on sleeping with me all night demanding cuddles and purring loudly whenever she thought I was awake. And I definitely lay awake worrying most nights, particularly during those first couple of weeks.

Obviously no outfit photos were taken - unless you count the one of me wearing pyjamas - although I promise you I did manage to dress up on most days, even if I did accessorize only sparingly and my make-up routine went out of the window.

The photos accompanying this post were taken in our back garden during the cold snap we had a couple of weeks ago or while running errands in our village.

Meanwhile, and much to Bess's joy, it's the return of the hospital bed ...

I'm desperately missing my blogging friends so I'm hoping to return soon. After all, there's still that December backlog to catch up on.

Wintering

February already, but in this parallel universe called blogland I've only just made it past mid-January. And what a miserable, sorry excuse of a month it had been so far! Either wet and windy or - much more appropriately for the first month of the year - bitterly cold, the common denominator was a chronic lack of sunshine, with the sky an endless dome of dullest grey.

As the weather forecast had us brainwashed into thinking it would be sunny on Sunday 19 January,  we'd pinned our hopes on going for a walk that day. Instead, we were faced with yet another grey day with temperatures just below freezing point.

Now, what to do? We briefly toyed with the idea of going to the indoor flea market - which would be our first time since Spring - but our hearts weren't really in it as our cotton wool-filled heads were craving a bit of fresh air.

But first things first, as I still owe you that cliffhanger final find from Saturday's rummage at the charity shop!

I know, it's another coat I didn't actually need and honestly, I wasn't even looking. It just winked at me as I walked from A to B through the XL aisle. A splash of green among the rail of predominantly shapeless black coats, it clamoured for my attention. As you can see it fits me perfectly, so what was it doing in the XL aisle anyway? It's vintage and tailor-made and all it needs is a bit of steam to get it back into shape.

My outfit that day was a mix of new and new-to-me, with a gifted item thrown in for good measure.

The chevron patterned plaid skirt in browns, oranges and a dash of white was wrestled off a charity shop dummy in January 2022 and swiftly established itself as one of my favourites. See here, here and here for some of its previous incarnations. However, it was the first time I combined it with my old purple polo neck

My accessories were predominantly of the orange variety:

Wooden beaded necklace: charity shopped.

Massive suede belt: sales bargain from haberdashery and accessories shop Veritas in January last year.

Faux-Léa Stein cat brooch: gift from Kezzie when she visited Antwerp in February 2022.

In spite of initial misgivings, we persevered and went for a short but freezing cold walk in the sculpture park after lunch. 

We parked near the main entrance to Middelheim-Hoog, where we were greeted by red lettering on the back of one the coach houses belonging to the former castle. It reads: IJZER & GOUD IN DE LUCHT, STUIFMEEL & ROOK OP DE GROND in Dutch, followed by the English translation: IRON & GOLD IN THE AIR, DUST & SMOKE ON THE GROUND. I would have translated stuifmeel as pollen and not dust, though, but perhaps I'm being a bit pedantic :-)

I guess you won't be surprised that this is a work of art. Dating from 1995, its creator the American artist Lawrence Weiner (1942-2021), who worked with language and the viewer’s imagination. In his words, the artwork is created in our minds, and once we “see” it, we take it with us forever. Apparently, the work's subtitle, Wind & The Willows, refers to Kenneth Grahame's children's book, The Wind in the Willows, published in 1908.

We were wondering whether the unearthly colour of the water in the moat was part of the artwork as well, but I couldn't find any reference to it.

We wandered and meandered at will, following our noses until eventually we ended up at the Open-Air Depot. I still find it sad that so many works of art are parked here, some of them ostensibly for restoration purposes, while others are - in the exact words on the museum's website - removed from the outdoor sculpture display for other reasons. I for one would like to know what reasons there can be for treating these works so disrespectfully, while there's plenty of space for them in the park.

I always make a point of visiting one of my favourites, Colonne (1975), the reflective column by Belgian sculptor Félix Roulin (1931): a polished metal column enclosing a human figure - or perhaps it's more than one - trapped inside. Through holes in the column different body parts can be seen.

And speaking of body parts, there are more than just a few missing ones in the corner reserved for side-lined and retired sculptures which in their prime used to grace Antwerp's squares and parks. Case in point is poor Beethoven (above, top right), who has to make do without a hand and upper arm! 

A prominent position is taken up by the statue dedicated to Leopold de Wael (1823-1892) , who was mayor of Antwerp from 1872 until his death in 1892. 

The statue was unveiled in 1897 and remained in place on one of Antwerp's squares until it had to make way for traffic in the early 1950s. It was then moved a couple of times to different locations until it ended up spending its retirement at Middelheim.

Contrary to those parked works of art which constitute the bulk of the Open-Air Depot, I've got a soft spot for this motley collection of old and time-worn sculptures, most of which have been permanently residing in this corner of the park since god knows when and seem to be rubbing along just fine.

And, finally, here is yours truly crossing the Bridge Without A Name (2012). It was created by Chinese artist Ai Weiwei (°1957), who recycled an existing little bridge for his project, replacing the bridge's original deck with planks that form the contours of his homeland China.

I layered a chunky cardigan on top of my polo neck and bundled up in a fudge coloured Astrakhan jacket charity shopped in December 2020. My ears were kept toasty with my velvet turban from Think Twice, insulated with a knitted headband for extra warmth. The scarf was a recent emergency purchase on a day when the one I left the house with wasn't a match for the cold East wind.

I soon regretted just wearing fingerless gloves, though!

Back at home, we defrosted with mugs of hot chocolate and the company of Bess, who's got the right idea by perfecting the art of hibernation.

January's penultimate week was one of two halves, with a continuation of Sunday's weather on both Monday and Tuesday and a return to highs of 8°C with the inevitable rain on Wednesday and Thursday.

No cappuccino catch-up with Inez that Wednesday as she was otherwise engaged, so I went for a walk instead, capturing a handful of Antwerp's treasures before scuttling back inside when the first drops of rain started to fall.

The rain continued on Friday 24 January. In fact, it was quite torrential, with lots of wind - the dregs of storm Éowyn - which made the day's highs of 9°C feel quite chilly indeed.

Other than doing the weekly food shop, some aimless pottering and a bit of mending, they day was spent not doing very much at all, and answering the siren call of the sofa for most of the afternoon.

The lack of proper daylight wasn't conductive to photographing my outfit, so I made Angelica wear it all again on Saturday.

Outfit particulars:

Cord skirt from the Green Ice outlet shop near my office.

Necklace: sales bargain from Veritas in the Summer of 2023.

Brooch doubling as a scarf clip (see detail below): flea market find

Belt: charity shopped back in December

Blouse: Think Twice, sorely neglected, last worn on the blog in May 2017!

More rain on Saturday, which put us off any plans we might have had for the day.

In a fit of madness, I decided to tick off a rather cumbersome task on my to-do list, and one I had been procrastinating on ever since reading about Vix's mishap doing the same: cleaning the chandelier in our bedroom. I'm glad to report that both the chandelier and myself emerged unscathed.

Miracles do happen, as not only did it finally stop raining mid-afternoon, we were even treated to a couple of random rays of sunshine. I quickly grabbed my bag, donned my coat, and walked into town to run a couple of errands.

But not before showing you what I was wearing that day!

One of my Diolen Delights made it out of my wardrobe that day. Found at Think Twice - where else - in January 2023, it made its debut a month later when I met up with Kezzie in Bruges. As she said its pattern made her think of Tardises, it has been known as the Tardis dress ever since!

The diagonally striped orange and burgundy Zoë Loveborn cardigan was a charity shop find, while my necklace is a vintage one found in an antiques centre during a wet Welsh holiday in June 2017.

My brooch came from Rita's stall at the indoor flea market. I guess she and our other favourite stallholders must be wondering what happened to us ...

Before I bid you goodbye once more, let me share my latest read with you. Based on a scandalous divorce case that gripped England in 1864, Emma Donoghue's The Sealed Letter is a chilling tale of  friends, lovers and divorce, Victorian style. Definitely one which cements Emma Donoghue as one of my favourite authors!

We'll be going away for a couple of days next week but I'll try to squeeze in another post before that. If not, see you on the other side!

A January state of mind

So far, January's weather has been a continuation of December's - and November's for that matter - offering an endless string of days in soul-sapping shades of grey, with sunny spells a rare and mostly short-lived commodity. On the handful of days that it doesn't rain, a persistent fog is overstaying its welcome, if not an eye-stinging beast-from-the-east wind is making one scuttle back inside.

In the last week or so the temperature, which had been up and down like a yo-yo, finally decided to duck below freezing point. Just a laughable couple of degrees to some, mind you, but quite enough to dig out my stash of jumpers. Gone are the days when the menopause made me break out in a sweat at the mere thought of them!

As I'm sitting here typing this post, rain is lashing against the window and I can hear the wind - the dregs of storm Éowyn which is wreaking havoc elsewhere - howling down the chimney, making it feel much colder than the 10°C promised by the weather forecast.

It was a different kind of weather we woke up to on Saturday 4 January. Miraculously, the sun managed to briefly break through the sky's uniform layer of grey once or twice, although the mercury got stuck at a mere 2°C. I needed an extra layer in the form of a chunky pink cardigan to combat the chill but, diligent blogger that I am, I briefly removed it to show you what I was wearing underneath.

The vintage wool blend Betty Barclay dress ticked all my boxes when I found it at Think Twice in November 2021. Making use of the pink stripe in its tartan pattern for my accessories, I added a textured belt from the high street, a charity shopped necklace and a vintage carved celluloid brooch I picked up from the Brooch Lady's flea market stall in 2017. My ankle boots are actually burgundy rather than the pink they appear to be in the photo.

As we had a family thing on Sunday, we needed to tick off a couple of chores on our to-do list on Saturday, which in my case included mending a fallen hem on the cord skirt I'd been wearing that week.

Not an easy task to accomplish with a feline who insists on making herself comfortable on your lap no matter what. 

Having reluctantly finished Sarah Waters' The Paying Guests a couple of days earlier, it was hard to find a suitable follow-up. I thought the playful tone of Nigel's Slater's Eating for England, a collection of short and often quite mischievous essays about the British and their relationship with food, would fill the gap nicely.

Sunday was an extremely wet day, during which the temperature gradually climbed from 2 to 12°C.

After dismantling the Christmas tree - much to Bess's chagrin, obviously - in the morning, we drove down to Jos's son and daughter in law for a family get-together and the reading of grandson Cas's New Year's letter (Nieuwjaarsbrief in Flemish). 

Flemish children are expected to write a letter with New Year’s wishes for their parents, godparents and grandparents, which is then read out loud in front of everyone. The tradition originated in the 16th century and was at first limited to the upper classes, who had access to education. At that time the letter was usually written in Latin and in verse. Since the mid-20th century, the custom has spread and is now an essential part of local culture.

Obviously Cas, at only 3 and a half years old not yet being able to read or write, got the necessary help from his Mum, Carolien.

The happy mix of stripy patterns I was wearing that day consisted of a knitted skirt from the German brand Bleyle and a faux-wrap jumper from C&A's Clockhouse label. Both items wended their way into my wardrobe through the charity shops, as did my necklace.

The green fabric belt with its scalloped metal clasp buckle - recently worn back in December  - used to belong to a dress which is no longer gracing my wardrobe, while my flower embroidered brooch was bought from Shrewsbury Antiques Centre in June 2019.

The weather during January's second week was quite a mixed bag, starting with a wet and very windy day with highs of 10°C on Monday. In spite of having had a fitful night's sleep, I managed to stay reasonably clear-headed throughout the day. Obviously, this might have been due to a cappuccino-fuelled catch-up with my friend Inez during lunch break! 

One of the perks of our catch-ups being at Antwerp's largest Think Twice shop is that we can go for a quick rummage afterwards. I might even have found a tartan skirt! 

The temperatures took a dive to the low single digits again the next day, where they would remain for the rest of the week and beyond. Lashings of rain and a gale force wind prevented me from venturing too far from the office, so that I inadvertently ended up at Think Twice again during Wednesday's lunch break.

This gorgeous mustard crochet purse insisted on coming home with me that day.

It started snowing quite heavily that evening, swiftly covering the world outside our window with a thick layer of the white stuff. Thankfully, it didn't stick and was all but gone by morning. However, as I was waiting for my bus, we were treated to another couple of flurries, which prompted me to whip out my phone and take this snap of our spotlighted village church.

Funnily enough, in spite of the wintry weather my bus arrived on time for first time that week! Belgian public transport definitely has its little idiosyncrasies - which is a nice way to say that most of the time it actually sucks big time.

As that morning my phone alerted me that another Think Twice sale was kicking off that day, I couldn't help but heading once more into its direction during my break. 

A green, yellow and white floral pussy-bow blouse and a green and purple midi dress were duly snapped up at 30% off. 

It was nothing short of a relief when Friday rolled along! What's more, it turned out to be a gloriously sunny but cold day, the mercury flitting around freezing point. The kind of Winter's day, in fact, that I would sign on the dotted line for. 

With my new-found need for wearing jumpers, I've been avidly adding to my collection, so that my wardrobe is more than ready to deal with this kind of weather!

Apart from my accessories - a mix of flea market and charity shop finds - the main components of my outfit were picked up from the high street.

I bought the chunky lilac and purple striped jumper in Belgian label Terre Bleue's closing down sale back in October, while the mustard flannel skirt was a bargain from Uniqlo two years previously. It's from the shop's collaboration with the French model and fashion designer Inès de La Fressange and I had been lusting after it for months. Having initially been told it was sold out, I couldn't believe my luck when I was able to buy the one which had been in the shop window at a reduced price. 

The unexpected bonus of sunshine was making me feel quite giddy and raring to go for a walk. If the weather forecast was to be believed - and they are usually spot on when bad weather's in the offing - it was actually now or never, what with the rest of the weekend looking quite atrocious.

After tossing around a couple of ideas over lunch, we settled on Den Brandt, one of the pearls in Antwerp's crown of parks to the south of the city centre.

Just like our beloved Middelheim sculpture park, those of you who have been reading my blog for a while have accompanied me here many times before. In fact, its entrance is just across the street from the part of the sculpture park called Middelheim-Laag.

I was remarking to Jos that we hadn't visited for months, but he was adamant that the last time had been after he'd been discharged from hospital. And while I was quite certain that it had been longer ago than that, I was still shocked when a search on my blog revealed that our last walk here was back in August!

After checking out the offerings made to the Gautam Buddha in the picking garden, we ventured into the park itself, relishing the fact that it was so much quieter here on a weekday afternoon in Winter than it was on that sunny August Sunday.

Back then, I photographed Jos against the backdrop of one of the park's veterans, a 200-year-old weeping beech (Fagus sylvatica pendula), at the height of Summer still fully and lushly in leaf. After Autumn ravaged its green canopy, its crooked and twisted branches (above, top left) might be looking dead to the world, but I'm sure this ancient giant will go on to live another day.

Nothing much remained of Thursday's snowfall, but I made a point to purposefully crunch through some of the patches we came across. After all, it might very well be my only chance to do so this Winter.

There was a flimsy layer of ice on the pond behind the recently renovated English-style cottage. This fairy-tale gingerbread cottage (see the ornamental stork perched on its roof on the top left) is purely ornamental and was placed in the garden as a romantic element, a folly if you like. Even after its renovation its door remains firmly locked and its shuttered windows do not allow for a peek inside ... which is a shame really!

Having meandered the park's paths for well over an hour, we now found ourselves at the front of the late classical castle which lies at the heart of the domain. Looking like a perfectly iced wedding cake from afar, up close it is clear that it is yet another victim of shameful and ongoing neglect. 

Before making our way back to our car, I photographed these mad-looking maidens which have been dancing around the fountain in the castle's front garden since 1911. 

Created by the German sculptor Walter Schott, I greatly prefer their nickname, the Dancing Nymphs rather than their official Three Graces moniker. 

The water in the fountain's basin was frozen solid and I imagine the maidens in their flimsy frocks were close to hypothermia!

Nothing but grey skies

Apologies to all of you who have been leaving comments on my posts these last couple of months. Ever since Jos started having health problems back in September, there seem to be fewer hours in my days, so that replying to them has been falling by the wayside. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get back into my stride. I'm just hoping that once Jos has recovered from his op (which is scheduled for 28 February, by the way), things will get back to normal. 

As we are in desperate need of a change of scenery, we have thrown caution to the wind and have booked a couple of nights at our favourite B&B in Beernem near Bruges in February. And we might even have booked a cottage for our annual UK holiday in June ...

If the latter still seems like a long way off at the time of writing, I won't be fooled as time has a tendency to fly whether one's having fun or not. 

For the sake of this blog's continuity, however, I'm taking you back to 2024's final days as, try as I might, I hadn't finished telling you about them yet.

On Sunday the 29th of December it soon became clear that Saturday's sunny outlook had just been a blip, the weather having reverted to its former gloomy and mizzly state, with highs barely above freezing point.

It was far too cold to make outfit photos in the passageway and, with barely a smidgen of daylight making it through our kitchen window, we had to make use of our daylight lamp to show you what I was wearing. Pardon the ghost-like appearance of yours truly :-)

My black floral Diolen balloon-sleeved dress was a Think Twice sales bargain back in August, while I picked up the caramel short-sleeved cardigan during our Boxing Day rummage at the charity shop. Both the necklace and chunky flower brooch were old charity shop finds.

Bored with spending my time reading and occasionally napping on the sofa, I decided that now was the time to head upstairs for some long-overdue dusting and sweeping. In fact, whole generations of dust bunnies had been reared in our upstairs rooms since they'd last been properly cleaned.

The ladies on the spare room mantelpiece were duly relieved from their gossamer veil of dust as were the myriad of objects and heirlooms which reside on every available surface in our bedroom. Keeping everything squeaky clean all the time is verging on the impossible but as I'll never be a minimalist that's something I've learned to live with.  

We didn't venture outside all day, except for a short walk to our neighbours across the street to feed their cats Bob and Billie while they were off to New York for a week.

Monday's weather was a carbon copy of Sunday's. What's more, as those who are supposedly in the know had us believe, the weather gods' offerings of infinite shades of grey would be repeated as December segued into January.

I'd woken up with a blocked left ear and a niggling headache which simply refused to budge so, apart from accompanying Jos on the year's final supermarket run, the sofa is where I spent most of the day.

It was late afternoon when I finally got my act together as we were invited by our friends Inneke and Maurice to have a rummage at their deceased neighbour's flat which they are helping to clear. It felt a bit awkward going through this late lady's cupboards and wardrobes, but I was reassured by Inneke that she would have loved it that her things were going to such a loving new home.

With Dove Cottage already bursting at its seams, we did have to leave behind any bigger items, picking up some smaller odds and ends instead. These included a couple of tote bags, some hand-embroidered napkins, a pink denim jacket and yet more belts.

I couldn't leave behind this twosome of owls, who are now enjoying the company of the Tiffany-style owl lamp which was a gift from Jos's daughter An last year.

The walnut chocolate mould (above, top right) has joined our kitchenalia collection and we are now the proud owners of a fancy new coffee machine (above, bottom left).

These new additions to our kitchen prompted another cleaning session on Tuesday the 31st. I've got to strike the iron while it's hot, as I never know when the mood for this level of domesticity will next take me. And speaking of ironing, I did indulge in some of that seldom seen activity too! Get me!

This is what I was wearing! Both the skirt and the jumper were bought on the high street. While the rust coloured faux-suede paperbag waist skirt was a sales bargain, bought at 70% off in January 2022, the green poloneck is an old wardrobe stalwart having resided there for at least 15 years.

The indisputable star of my outfit is the tooled leather cowboy belt. It's the genuine article and must have been picked up by Inneke and Maurice's neighbour on her travels. 

The Edelweiss hiking souvenir brooch I pinned to my poloneck was a flea market find in February 2024 and the orange and brown hued wooden beaded necklace was charity shopped.

In order to keep cabin fever at bay we decided to drive down to the small charity shop in the neighbouring village of Reet after lunch. The shop's stock can be rather hit or miss and we were fully expecting the latter, so imagine our delight when it turned out there was quite a bit of treasure to be found this time around.

Apart from a Mango jumper (which you'll get to see me wearing in a minute) there was a pair of floral denim trousers, a dress by posh label Essentiel Antwerp and a cushion printed with Vizzini (Sheila's lovely boy) lookalikes. For some reason, Bess initially wasn't a fan as she was clearly freaked out by it.

I also ended up buying this magnificent red wool dress. Trimmed with faux fur at the cuffs and neck and with braided frog buttons decorating its bodice, I though it was fit for a Russian princess. Not for this particular princes though as, while it fit me perfect in the waist and effortlessly skimmed my hips, it was just a bit too narrow on top. Although I wasn't able to try it on in the shop, I'm generally quite good at guessing my size. Obviously not this time, so I'm letting Angelica do the honours. I even generously lend her my muff which doubles as a handbag!

Wednesday the 1st of January was a complete write-off. Although the mercury had climbed to 9°C by now, the day was even more miserable than those barely above freezing point ones courtesy of a nasty gale-force wind. As if that wasn't bad enough, I was feeling a bit maudlin and wasn't at all looking forward to my return to work the next day. And wasn't it just typical that this turned out to be a sunny one? I bet the weather gods must have been laughing behind my back! 

After the shortest working week ever of just one day we've arrived at Friday the 3rd of January, and the final day covered by this post. A frosty but sunny day, with highs of 2°C, it offered the perfect opportunity to wear that Mango jumper I'd charity shopped on Tuesday.

Biscuit and cream might not be my go-to colours, but add a generous helping of custard and suddenly it's very me indeed. As its companion, I picked a vintage chevron patterned knit skirt in shades of biscuit and chocolate. More custard was added with my fleece-lined opaques - a gift from lovely Kezzie - and charity shopped woolly hat.

The belt by Massimo Dutti and the orange beaded necklace were charity shopped as well, while the brooch was picked up from Think Twice a couple of months ago.

Clouds had gathered by the time we'd had lunch but there were still enough patches of blue sky to tempt us outside for a walk.  For a change of scenery, we opted for the park in the nearby town of Boom [boːm], which apparently we hadn't visited since early October. 

As our last visit was just days before everything went truly pear shaped, bad memories needed to be chased away, so that we entered the park with some trepidation. We needed have worried though, as any lingering negative vibes appeared to have been swept up and buried beneath a deep pile carpet of Autumn leaves. 

Still, instead of circling the ponds as we usually do, we headed to the park's tapering town-side end. 

Here, a modernist water garden punctuated with several bronze sculptures by well-known Flemish artists was laid out in 1931.

The building with the Art-Deco tower beyond belongs to Jos's alma mater and was built at approximately the same time.

The most prominent of the sculptures is Solidarity (above) by the Belgian sculptor, draughtsman and graphic designer George Minne (1866-1941), famous for his idealized depictions of man's inner spiritual conflicts. 

With the remaining sunshine on the wane, the temperature was soon making its way below freezing point. As the cold was numbing our faces and making our eyes water, we decided to call it a day and make our way back to where we'd left our car.

Waffles and hot chocolates were waiting for us at home!