These things take time

On Monday last week, we set out on our yearly sojourn to the Westhoek, the most westerly part of Belgium.

For seven years now, we have spent the first week of September in this area, which is sandwiched between the North Sea coast and the French borders.

This is the landscape where the battles of the Great War were once fought, its panoramic views and its gently rolling hills, silent witnesses.

Our journey coincided with the first day of school, so we set out after rush hour but, as it is only a two-hour drive, we still managed to arrive at our destination shortly after midday.

Our cottage, a studio apartment in a thatched wooden building, was as delightful as ever, and so was the unprecedented view from its little balcony. Still, all was not as it as it should have been.

When we waved goodbye to owner Johanna last year, little did we know that it would be for the last time. When we tried to contact her back in May to make arrangements, we were saddened to learn from her daughter that Johanna had passed away. She was only in her early 50s.

Even if we didn't know her all that well, as we only saw each other once a year, there was a certain connection: we kept in touch by email, and I know she sometimes read my blog.

The news had somewhat knocked us for six and, although we'd gotten used to the idea by now, her absence still cast a bit of a shadow on our holiday, especially when we were in the cottage and contemplating the landscape around it, where Johanna's presence seemed to be poignantly tangible.

The empty poles in the hop fields opposite the cottage were a case in point, as they managed to look even more barren than usual.

There were reminders even in the streets of nearby Poperinge, where a strange heaviness seemed to be lingering. 

For once, the square in front of the yellow bricked town hall was empty, and one of the gargoyles hiding in a corner of the stonework seemed to be playing a sad song for further emphasis. 

We always gravitate towards Poperinge on our first day, sampling the atmosphere of this deceptively quiet little town, and taking in the familiar sights like the Hop Museum (top left) and Talbot House (bottom left), which we visited back in 2016 and 2017.

Our visits usually end with a walk in Poperinge's enchanting Burggraaf Frimoutpark.

The park, covering 3 hectares, is the town's green lung, affording views of its skyline. Unfortunately, this view has been marred by one or two cranes for the past couple of years. Thankfully these can be photographically erased with some careful framing.

A new artwork has popped up, and no, it hasn't toppled over, this is the way it is meant to be.

The hollow, bronze sculpture, which is six metres long, is called "Shot at Dawn" and its creator, Anno Dijkstra, who was inspired by Poperinge's War Memorial in the Market Square, is issuing an invitation for reflection.

In his words: In my imagination I carefully tilt the monument. It is now lying on its back. The bottom of the pedestal has become a gigantic black hole. I can just about see the starting point of the soldier, the soles of his shoes, his legs. And then it gets really dark. Do I see his chest, his neck? Can I look inside his head? The darkness is impenetrable. The pedestal lying down looks like a funnel. Through the funnel the present slinks in: it brings some clarity to that darkness. Or is the funnel a horn through which the past tries to shout out something at us? An oracle? Do we hear the enthusiasm of the first weeks of the war, the homesickness, the pride, the doubt, the blood lust, the rattle of death, the cries of victory? Or do we mainly hear a rustle? The rustle of our own blood?

The park is named after Dirk Frimout who was born in Poperinge and who, in 1992, was the first Belgian in space. He is now an honorary citizen.

We walked the length of the park, with its many water features. This one is looking a bit like a miniature flying saucer, which has just landed in one of the ponds.

We are on the cusp of Autumn, a delightful juxtaposition of seasons. The beginning of the end of a never-ending process. A reminder, both of nature's fragility and strength, and the passing of time. 

These things, like all things, take time.

A black cat was about to cross our path. At first all we could see was its two pointy ears. Its interest piqued, it emerged from the grassy verge. But, keeping in mind that curiosity killed the cat and all that, it then  seemed to think it was better to be safe than to be sorry, with one backward glance slinking off the way it had come.

While admiring the imaginative planting near the main pond, we were accosted by a gaggle of ducks.

Jos magicked some biscuits from his inside pocket, which he proceeded to distribute among the gang, making him look like a kind of pied piper. Aren't they the most funny creatures? At one point, the most forward of the white ones were trying to eat Jos's shoe-laces. My favourite was the one with the punky hairdo on the bottom right.

We returned along a boardwalk leading us over the ponds and through a marshy area.

The statuesque figure of a blue heron was patiently waiting for its evening meal at the other side of the pond.

Here I am posing for one more photograph before returning to the town in search of our own evening meal.

We sat down outside on the terrace of Hotel de la Paix in the Market Square, sampling glasses of Palm Green, a deliciously punchy non-alcoholic beer, while waiting for our meal to arrive.

Then it was back to our cottage, where we watched the sun go down from our little balcony and retired to our comfortable bed for a good night's sleep.

Watch out for the continuation of my travelogue in my next post!

Meanwhile, I'm taking my travel outfit, including flying saucer, to Patti's Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style!

As time goes by

Can you believe it's September already? Well, neither can I!

I wonder if time is playing tricks with my mind, as it seems as if only yesterday we were welcoming Summer, and then, after a blink or two of the eye, the season's time is slowly but surely running out.

So, where did the time go? Did I let it slip through my fingers, allowing it to vanish into thin air?

Typically, though, the past week time seemed to go just that little bit slower, as if it was taunting me, and keeping the weekend, and my subsequent holiday, tantalizingly out of reach.

But we've finally made it to the weekend and we're all set to go away for a week tomorrow. We'll be storing a whole new set of memories to get us through Winter, and gathering stories to tell.

Before I leave, however, there are some things left to share with you, starting with the promised charity shop finds.

True vintage finds are a rare commodity at the charity shops these days. Nevertheless, I was able to pluck this amazing mint green floral frock from the rails.

It was only in the fitting room that I noticed that one of the ribbons gathering the sleeves was missing.  The one that was still in place was tied with a bow, which wasn't much to my liking so, when I got home I untied the bow, removed the ribbon and cut it in half. I then re-threaded and gathered each sleeve until it was a perfect fit, then sewed the ribbons in place and snipped off the excess. Et voilà! I keep surprising myself with my sewing skills!

The floral print offers a range of colour to choose from, but I took my lead from the one shining the brightest, adding accessories in shades of magenta to give it more pizzazz. 

My bamboo handbag is another one which hardly sees the light of day, as it is rather delicate, but isn't it a beauty? It was a flea market find back in November 2016.

The summer stuff has all but gone from the charity shop rails and the first of the long sleeved dresses, jumpers and heavy wool skirts are making an appearance, with the overall colour palette getting darker.

Now, I don't wear black as often as I used to, preferring bright colours whatever the season, but I'm always prepared to make an exception for a great print.

The ankle-length dress on the left, with its Paisley-esque print, originally came from a high street shop. The fabric is light enough for those late Summer days merging into Autumn, and I can see myself wearing it for a stroll in the park, with a sturdy pair of boots.

The other dress is King Louie, and its original retail price must have been around the € 80 mark. It looks brand new and, although I'm obviously not complaining, it always boggles my mind that someone would pay good money for a dress and then donate it to charity after only a couple of wears. Oh, I know fashion is fickle and all that, but still!

This cap-sleeved cowl neck frock is King Louie as well, again in pristine condition. I succumbed to its funky pop-art print!

Not a charity shop find, but I've just realized I haven't shown you this citrusy sleeveless Trevira frock yet. It's from Think Twice and the fabric reminds me of terry cloth. No chance of Jos losing me in a crowd when I'm wearing this!

This dress might look familiar as it's the one I bought at Ashmans Antiques and Old Lace in Welshpool on the last day of our holiday. Prompted by the turquoise bits in the print, but not wanting it to be too matchy-matchy, I accessorized it with a bright blue belt, necklace and bracelet.

The ivory coloured Bakelite bangle carved with Edelweiss finds its companion in the celluloid Edelweiss brooch I'm wearing.

Although you've seen some of my holiday finds in my travelogue, there are still quite a few things which escaped my attention, so now is as good a time as any for a round-up.

The charity shops in Welshpool came up trumps with a new-to-me frock printed with birds, which I already wore for our return journey, and a vintage long-sleeved crimplene dress in a hard to photograph shade of blue.

Not as many brooches as last year, but still a good haul. They were picked up from charity shops in various locations, including Welshpool, where I found no less than four of them!

The shell necklace was waiting for me in a charity shop in Ludlow and it proved to be a good year for bangles and bracelets.

Let's make a little jump to last weekend now.

Saturday's weather forecast was pretty dire which, as Jos's eldest daughter and her husband were having a garden party for their 20th wedding anniversary, had me rack my brain on what to wear.

There turned out to be no sign of the forecasted rain, but it was still quite chilly, so I opted for a floral maxi skirt, conveniently hiding the pair of tights I felt the need to wear. I was also wearing booties, although you cannot see much of them either. 

My lightweight, long-sleeved blouse was layered over a short-sleeved tee, which was cozy enough with my turquoise lined jacket on top.

The fact that I wasn't wearing any bracelets or bangles (forgot!) was soon remedied when upon arrival at the party we were supplied with a festival-worthy wrist tag mentioning the happy couple's names and the occasion.

The blouse actually started life as a mini dress, which I used to wear over leggings many years ago. Although it hadn't been worn in ages, I was reluctant to let it go as I loved the print, so I shortened it into a blouse. Yes, you have read that right: no-sewing-skills-whatsoever-Ann actually did this herself! Maybe I did inherit some of my great-grandmother Angelica's seamstress genes after all ...

I'm ending this post with Sunday's flea market finds. We only found out at a very late hour that there was a flea market in our village, but obviously we couldn't let it pass without having a look.

My first find was a snakeskin Jane Shilton clutch, which was hiding under a pile of gloves.

I am not sure how politically correct the brooch on the top left is, but isn't she gorgeous? She is 1950s, and both she and the marvellous celluloid dragonfly brooch were only € 2 each.

Finally, I was in need of a new case for my reading glasses and thought this one with its be-hatted lady and tortoiseshell clasp fit the bill nicely.

That's it, our bags our packed for tomorrow. No stress, as it's only a two hour drive to our destination. Here's to hoping the weather gods are with us again.

See you next week!

Linking to Patti's Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style before I go!

The keepers of lost things

Two weeks ago, I had a bonus day off in the middle of the week, as the 15th of August is a public holiday in Belgium.

The weather forecast had been inconclusive and the morning sky threatening, but as the day progressed into afternoon, it turned out to be too fine to be wasted indoors.

Some of you might remember this place from my post back in March, when on freezing cold day, we went in search for a castle fit for a princess.

In spite of the fact that it's quite close by, in a neighbouring village, we hadn't been back there since.

As we'd heard on the grapevine that restoration on the coach houses flanking the castle's courtyard had been completed, it was time to see the transformation with our own eyes.

Walking up the double linden avenue, I took the opportunity of its temporary emptiness to take this photograph with the castle a glimmer of brilliant white at its end.

The sight that met us at the end of the avenue was even more brilliant: the finished coach houses left and right of the courtyard painted a dazzling, almost blinding white.

The castle's original monumental wrought iron railings and gate, which had been removed while work at the coach houses was ongoing, had undergone a transformation of their own and were once again in pride of place, complete with decorative gilded finials.

When my Dad was a boy, the woods around the estate an illicit part of his playground, this is where a walk up the linden avenue ended, the castle and its pleasure grounds firmly closed against prying eyes and wandering feet.

Now, the gates stood invitingly open, so we entered the courtyard, where the western coach house has been turned into a brasserie. No chance of a cup of coffee though as it was Mother's Day (which is celebrated on the 15th of August in and around Antwerp) and the place was packed.

In stark contrast to the exquisitely restored coach houses, the castle's deterioration is even more apparent, and its increasing state of disrepair is quite heart-breaking.

I was wearing a mustard coloured Diolen dress, sprinkled with green, orange and cream flowers, and accessorized with a green skinny belt, orange beads, a translucent green plastic ring, and cream and green bracelets.

It might have been a bit too warm for my green cardigan, but it was such a dull day, the sky indecisive on whether to dispense with the blanket of grey.

My brooch was a tiny gold basket brimming with jade green flowers. The orange leather bag was a sales bargain and is just big enough for essentials.

Posing for photos in the castle's porticoed entrance, we happened upon a half-braided scoubidou, the ends of its multicoloured plastic strings spreadeagled on the tiles.

I remember having one of these back in the early 1970s, when it was one in a long row of crazes sweeping the school playground, which had us all braiding away until one day they suddenly were no longer in vogue, having been replaced by the next craze.

It wasn't the last time the scoubidou was popular, but nor was it the first. Apparently it originated in France, where it became popular in the late 1950s. It was named after the 1958 song of the same name by French singer Sacha Distel, whose fans, following a gig, fashioned bracelets for their idol out of wire insulators.

Obviously, we felt sorry for the thing and it came home with us!

Although I have only just finished this book, recommended by Lynn, and picked up in a charity shop while on holiday, we have been keepers of lost things for many years.

Consequently, we have a small collection of orphaned buttons, marbles and other odds and ends picked up from the streets, and living on a ledge in our hallway. The tiny green plastic angel was left behind on a train to Amsterdam and has been living with us for over 10 years now!

There are even more signs of neglect at the back of the castle, the cracked and peeling plaster and rotting woodwork the result of endless seasons of weathering.

The castle itself is next in line for restoration: I've read that there are plans for turning into an events venue and, possibly, at a later stage, a Bed & Breakfast.

Judging from its dilapidated exterior only, which I'm sure is just the tip of the iceberg, this will be quite a daunting project!

Here too, the hot and dry months have played havoc with the lake's water level, which is at an all time low. It was in the news a couple of weeks ago that a group of worried villagers has been making plans to rescue the resident fish if necessary.

No visit here is complete without a walk around the castle's park, and we took note of the many acorns littering the paths, while the leaves on some of the trees seemed to be turning already, making me wonder if they will hang on until Autumn.

Meanwhile, Jos was unsuccessfully trying to recapture his scoubidou braiding skills ...

A bonus of having a day off in the middle of the week is that it doesn't take long for the weekend to come around again.

Our weekends have been rather quiet affairs lately, with nothing much planned. Nevertheless, we hardly ever miss a charity shopping opportunity, which is what we did on Saturday.

Talking of opportunity, I've been waiting for the right moment to show you this delightful frock. Although it was picked up at Think Twice nearly two years ago, so far only Angelica had been lucky enough to wear it.

The reason, of course, is that it had, and indeed still has, issues. Apart from a small but visible spot (easily hidden by a brooch), I had no idea what to do with the hem, which was finished with white ribbon, quite a substantial piece of which was missing. I'd already bought replacement ribbon, but with my limited sewing skills, I was reluctant to have a go at this rather fiddly job.

In the end, with the old ribbon removed, I just left the edges raw, as the fabric, which has a crepe-like feel, doesn't seem to be prone to fraying.

The dress is handmade and lined, the hem of its lining exquisitely finished with a row of embroidered flowers. The square buttons, made of translucent plastic, are worth having a closer look, with a wide semi-opaque middle part edged by two see-through strips decorated with scrolls.

Did we find anything note-worthy at the charity shops? All will be revealed in my next post.

Better late than never, I'll be linking my blue and white dress to Patti's Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style as usual.

This week, I am also joining Shelbee On The Edge's linkup, which is a first for me. Please get over there and have a look!

And last but not least, I am linking up to birthday girl Nancy's Fancy Friday at Nancy's Fashion Style.