Scenes from the bleak midwinter

On the last Sunday of 2019 we embarked on our final walk of the year.

Admittedly, apart from the odd stroll in the park, we hadn't been on a good old ramble for quite a while. Time and tide had been against us, not to mention that eternal spoilsport, the weather.

At the end of a string of wet weeks, that weekend's forecast had been for reasonably dry and sunny weather accompanied by - shock, horror! - some light overnight frost. Had the weather gods finally cottoned on that it's Winter in these parts?

In any case, that Sunday morning we wasted no time in going for that long overdue walk, choosing  one of our favourite nature reserves, Blaasveldbroek, as our destination.

The reserve is about 20 kilometers from where we live and, with its 675 hectares and a choice of foothpaths, it's the perfect place to stretch one's legs. My long-time readers have accompanied me there more than once over the years.

So, after breakfast we dressed warmly to combat the barely above freezing temparatures, donning coats, hats, scarves and gloves, and packed some sandwiches and a thermos flask for a wintertime picnic. 

The day did have a bit of a cloudy start and a lingering haze initially put paid to the sun's attempts to grace us with her presence.

Once or twice, patches of blue appeared in which fleecy clouds seemed to huddle together for warmth.

There's fauna and flora in abundance, too! Speaking of the former, arriving at the visitor's centre, which lies at the heart of the reserve, we were met by the resident cat, a Phoebe lookalike, albeit quite a bit slimmer and friendlier than our grumpy monster.

There were two big grey hairy pigs in a fenced off area which they were in the process of digging over completely with their snouts, in search of who knows what. However, they didn't keep still for a single moment, so that I was only able to catch one of their mud encrusted snouts on camera.

The fearsome but funny bronze beaver (one of a pair) and the enchanting carved wooden ducks probably need no introduction as they have appeared on the blog several times before.

You've already seen most of what I was wearing that day in my previous post, but I still had to show you my outerwear.

The jacket, in a mustardy brown and with furry collar and cuffs, is part of a skirt suit. I've gone off the skirt, but the jacket is still making an appearance each winter. I usually wear the boxy jacket with a belt, this time opting for a burgundy leather one. My ears were kept toasty by my woolly beret from Think Twice and I added a charity shopped scarf in oranges and pinks.

This marshy reserve really is a place for all seasons, and I am definitely an all-seasons girl, finding delight even in the so-called bleak midwinter: the solemn trees reflected in the swollen waters, the thin shards of ice escaped from a puddle, a dead branch giving life to mosses and lichens.

We always stop for photographs in this marshy meadow, even if this time we had to stay close to its edge as the rains had made it quite inaccessible unless one was wearing wellies.

In spite of the cold, I had no need for the pair of leather gloves I'd brought, making do with my fingerless knitted ones, which are far more convenient anyway for a constant photographer like me.

The mottled blanket of clouds was getting denser, the skeleton trees shadow-playing against the gloomy sky. Gentle giants, they are, but even gentle giants do not live forever, victims of old age and fierce winter storms.

Near the end of our walk, just before the turning to the muddy car park, a half-drowned landscape awaited, a graveyard of gentle giants.

Giddy and light-headed from fresh unsullied air, we returned to our car, and drove back home, happier in our skins than we were before.

And so the final days of the year were upon us, leaving me with a final handful of outfits to share.

First up is what I wore on Monday, to run some errands in our town. But laid back days like these are no reason for me not to get dressed up, so out came this charity shopped frock, handmade and with a seasonal print featuring flowers, leaves and berries, in brown, green, red and white.

The furry maroon cardigan is one of the three I scored at the charity shops just days before, and shown in my previous post. 

I picked golden yellows for my opaques, beaded necklace and orchid brooch. The brooch can also be worn as a pendant and was a flea market find.

I opted for full-on colour on New Year's Eve, starting with my dotty Diolen frock from Think Twice, matching the ochre dots with my short-sleeved batwing cardigan. 

The cardie is H&M by way of the charity shops a year or two ago. The long, black and white beaded necklace was another recent charity shop buy, while the green flower brooch - almost exactly the shade of the green dots - was a flea market find.

And now, for the grand finale, I'm introducing you to the outfit I wore to wave goodbye to the old year and welcome the new.

I was determined to wear this glorious Scandi print maxi skirt but initially didn't have the faintest idea what to wear with it. Then I remembered the vintage jumper and blouse in one which I picked up for just € 1 from Think Twice a month or two ago, but promptly forgot about.

It was short enough to wear untucked but I thought it benefited from the addition of a belt, choosing a fabric covered one which I think once belonged to a dress. 

The brooch with its mottled ochre and green stone was yet another flea market find. One of my favourites, I chose it to enhance the yellow bits in the blouse's sleeves and collar.

The final touch was my Art Deco style necklace, one of my best charity shop jewellery finds ever.

And so, that was it, 2019 all wrapped up and put away in a drawer. And about time, I should think, as we are - eek!- mid January already!

Taking it easy

How I love those quiet in-between days bridging the excitements of Christmas and New Year's Eve and offering a welcome pause for body and soul.

This is the only holiday longer than the odd extended weekend when we are not swanning off elsewhere, and having a handful of empty diary pages is pure bliss to me.

Sleeping just that little bit longer, enjoying leisurely breakfasts, spending a couple of hours happily pottering around the house or reading during the daytime: they are all little nuggets of luxury for me. Those little things that make me the happiest.

Having the time to go through my wardrobe and endlessly try out outfits is another such luxury I cannot afford myself during my busy working weeks.

Originally, I had this blue velvet skirt earmarked for our Boxing Day walk, but it didn't look right at all with the psychedelic print blouse I'd picked out, so I ended up wearing it with another skirt.

On Friday - the final one of the year - I gave it another shot, digging out this vintage Karelia blouse to accompany it instead. Both the skirt, which is handmade and mercifully lined, and the blouse were Think Twice finds, but with a quite a few years between them, the skirt found only a couple of months back.

The burgundy leather belt with its massive buckle, and the partially textured necklace (some of the beads seem to be wearing woolly jumpers!) were charity shopped, while the brooch, a blue bird in flight with a sparkly head and wings, was a flea market find. 

Speaking of charity shops, these in-between days are just perfect for a spot of shopping too, as at this time of year they are considerably less crowded than usual.

We decided to stay local that day, visiting a small shop in a neighbouring village and then the larger one in our own.

Our rummage in the first shop yielded a white vintage Pyrex jug with a cheerful border of flowers near its bottom and a red plastic lid. 

It has already been roped in as a water jug, as we have recently stopped buying bottled water, using tap water to which we add a so-called EM ceramic chip, which is treated with effective microorganisms, to purify it and improve its taste.

We also found two glass vintage canisters. As they are printed with the name Kraft, we suppose they must have originally contained foodstuffs, especially since the plastic lids have ordinary metal screw-on ones inside. The red one is for storing coffee while the the green one is meant to hold flour. Being bilingual Belgium, the contents are displayed in both languages, Flemish and French.

While rummaging in our hometown's shop, we came across a set of coasters in an owl holder, still in its original carton, as well as a set of owl decorated placemats. We bought these as a present for our friends Ingrid and Maurice, who were hosting New Year's Eve this year. As Ingrid loves owls and has a quite a collection of owl related ornaments, we couldn't have picked a better present.

Saturday saw some improvement in the weather, with a couple of welcome sunny spells at last. 

The perfect weather, in fact, to combine another charity shopping trip with a stroll in the park. The somewhat chillier temperatures prompted me to wear a vintage Viyella dress I bought from the lovely Diane at Ashmans Antiques & Old Lace in Welshpool last June.

I was completely bowled over by its spectacular print and amazing collar, but now that it was finally getting its first outing, I discovered its drawbacks. First of all, the dress's waist is awkwardly low, sitting just above my hips and making them seem even curvier than they already are. This meant that I couldn't use the self-fabric belt it came with, replacing it with a wide purple woven leather belt instead.

On top of that, the dress is unlined, and the fabric kept bunching up, even if I was wearing a full slip underneath.

I then had the brainwave to belt my cardigan over the dress, which considerably improved the proportions. The dress is still on the naughty bench until I decide its fate. Quite a few people chuckled when I mentioned this on Instagram, but that's what happens with misbehaving items of clothing!

I'd almost forgotten about these blue boots, which were a charity shop find about two years ago. They're no longer in the best of shapes, but good enough for what we had in mind.

The burnt orange opaques were a gift from Kezzie, who sent them to me last year together with several other pairs she was no longer wearing.

We hadn't been to this park near the big charity shop in Duffel since November, and most of the trees were quite bare by now, with just the odd leaf still foolhardy enough not to give in to its inevitable fate, audacious hangers-on to seasons past.

It was only mid-afternoon, but the light was fading already, painting the horizon with pastel shades against which the trees' silhouettes provided a stark contrast.

My outerwear consisted of my 1960s swing coat, a lucky find in Oxfam, my sage green beret and my moss green furry supermarket scarf. Oh, and I'd picked out a blue vintage handbag to go with the boots.

We made our way past the sun-dipped, moorhen filled pond and briefly walked along the river's towpath adjacent to the park. 

This poor little toy rabbit was quite dirty faced and must have gone feral having to fend for itself. 

Then we noticed this strange red cigar-shaped vehicle racing across the towpath at the opposite side of the river. The wonders of this park never cease to amaze us!

Nor do the wonderful things we keep unearthing in the charity shops, like the small wicker sewing basket on the right. I photographed it next to a regular sized one so that its diminutive size can be fully grasped. I already have several sewing baskets (all but one being used for other purposes), but this one was far too cute to be left behind.

I struck gold in the jewellery department as well, with no less than four necklaces.

There's always space for another cardigan or three, isn't there? The furry one on the left has no label, but has already been worn twice. The middle one is from a Belgian high street brand, while the pink and purple houndstooth one is by McGregor.

Finally, this delightful jacket caught my eye. It's from the Spanish Kling brand and it looks as if it was hardly worn at all. It's still slightly crumpled but Angelica insisted on wearing it anyway.

Oh, and I found the vintage tartan hat, which is actually a cross between a cap and a hat and has a distinct 1960s feel to it, in the same shop. Aren't they a brilliant match?

I'm ending this post by showing you what I wore on Sunday. 

It promised to be a crisp but sunny day, so we were off for a good long walk, which I will tell you all about in my next post.

I dressed weather appropriately in warm woollies, starting with a rust brown plaid midi skirt and topped by a floral wool-blend H&M cardigan, both charity shopped.

My accessories of choice were a red plastic cat brooch and one of the necklaces I'd scored on Saturday. 

My feet were happy in my wool-lined chocolate brown boots and my ears were kept toasty by my woolly beret, another Think Twice treasure.

Now, off we go! Hope you'll join me on my walk next time.

These short-lived days of leisure

Wow, that has gone quickly, hasn't it? I'm talking about the Christmas break, of course, that ray of light at the end of the tunnel guiding me through the final working weeks of the year.

For the first couple of days, time seemed to be suspended, but then the train of days picked up speed, until all of a sudden time was up, and I was back at the office, as if it was only yesterday that I closed its door behind me with a sigh of relief.

Now how did that happen? It's the new year and I haven't even finished telling you about the old. There are still quite a few outfits to share, for starters.

I didn't finish work until December 24th, but the final weekend before the holidays, with only one more day of work to get through, already felt like a little taster of what was to come.

The week had been a particularly stressful one and, arriving home on Friday night, I was feeling quite frazzled and in need of a long lie-down. Hibernation sounded like a good idea: wake me up in Spring - or at least when all the Christmas madness is over!

But Saturday dawned, and I was feeling a whole lot better after a good night's sleep, especially since I was hearing the siren call of the charity shops!

So let's get up and get dressed! I plucked this pussy-bow frock from my wardrobe. Scored in a previous Think Twice sale for the princely sum of € 2, this was its first wear. I'd dithered over this one in the shop, but in the end its purples and pinks, not to mention its print which somehow manages to combine stripes, chevrons and diamonds, won me over.

I tamed the pussy-bow with my great aunt Josephine's diamanté scarf clip, added a wide chocolate brown mock-croc belt, magenta opaques and a fuchsia bed jacket-type cardigan to which I pinned the peacock feather brooch I brought back from our last UK holiday.

Oh, and I wore my red boots!

We spent a relaxing couple of hours having a good rummage in our chosen chazza's, picking up this heavy 700+ pageTaschen book on Design of the 20th Century at one of the shops.

Trawling the aisles of clothing in our second shop, I couldn't help but notice the huge choice of boots displayed at the bottom of the clothing rails. And what did I spy, with my little eye? Only my holy grail of footwear: a pair of green boots!  Tentatively lifting them from their hiding place to look at their size, I couldn't believe my luck when I saw they were a 37, which is my size!

There seemed to be a little problem with the zips, which kept getting stuck, but having been faced with, and solved, similar problems more than once before, we took a chance and took them home. 

Just as we thought, the zip problem was easy enough to solve. They were priced at € 6 but the guy at the till mislaid the price tag after removing it, and asked if € 4 was OK. Well, who were we to say no to that?

Needless to say, I had to wear them straight away, and I thought they would look a treat with Sunday's outfit.

The dark olive green shift dress, with its off-white, pink and lilac print, was another Think Twice sales bargain. With its dropped waist and worn with a slightly longer strand of off-white beads, I thought it had a certain 1920s vibe, but in a 2020s kind of way. 

I opted for fuchsia opaques and a ditto long line cardigan, to which I pinned a green faux-leather hair flower worn as a brooch.

I was so pleased with this outfit that I wore it again in its entirety for my final day of work on Monday.

Skipping Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, as I've already shown you my outfits, we're moving straight to Boxing Day, on which we went for a walk in Middelheim Sculpture Park.

This is a tradition we've unwittingly started two years ago and, as we wanted to continue in the same vein, we had been anxiously eyeing the weather forecast, hoping for a dry day.

Much to our relief, rain was only expected by mid-afternoon so, instead of doing an afternoon walk as usual, we started out by late morning.

There was a definite chill in the air, so I dressed warmly, topping my outfit, which you will get to see later in this post, with a vintage coat which recently joined my collection.

How fortunate that there was this pink painted wall - part of an art installation - to compliment my vintage dusky pink Kangol beret and burgundy faux-fur wrap which I bought in the January sales two years ago.

We wandered at will, coming across Orbino (2004), a container installation by architectural sculptor Luc Deleu (top left) and Walking Nuns (1960-61) by Elia Ajolfi (top right), while encoutering our own ghostly reflections in Belgian Funhouse (2004) by Dan Graham (bottom left).

The same art installation which contained the pink wall, also provided a wooden catwalk, which was perfect for more outfit photos. I was joined by Running Girl (1976) by Kurt Gebauer (top right) and Will to Live (1952) by Hildo Krop (bottom left).

We then made our way to the recently opened Collection Pavilion, where you can (re)discover hidden works from the collection of the museum, which are normally stored in depots closed to visitors.

An initial selection of artworks has been unpacked there and put on display for the public.

Clockwise from top right are Model for Sculpture Zoo (2006) by Thomas Schütte, Chiaro di Luna (1932) by Arturo Martini and - a particular favourite of mine - Expearience Trap (2018), by British artist Alalia Chetwynd, who currently goes under the name of Monster Chetwynd. And no, I didn't make a typo in the title!

Starting with Steel-Sculpture (1951) by Hans Uhlmann, we go on to Henri Rouart (1889-90) by Medardo Rosso and Gummi Girl (2006) by Yoshimoto Nara, ending with Boy on a Chair (1977) by Kurt Trampedach.

We got talking to a musem guide who told us an anecdote about the boy on the chair who, years ago, was part of an exhibition in the museum's Braem Pavillion. At the time, security was being provided by the local police force and on one particular night watch, the officer on duty mistook the boy for a real one and attempted to arrest him! 

After our visit to the Collection Pavillion, we were drawn further into the park by a peculiar tapping sound, which seemed to originate from the tangled branches of a copse of trees.  Peering into the canopy, we finally spotted a woodpecker going about his business, but catching him on camera turned out to be virtually impossible.

Instead, I'm introducing you to two more works of art, Demeure N° 4 - Lanleff (1961) by Henri Etienne-Martin (left), and Two Pregnant Women (1952-53) by Charles Leplae (top right).

The museum café offered a welcome break for our customary cappuccinos. We'd ordered Croque Monsieur (toasted sandwiches) and were given a small flying saucer-like device (it's in on the bottom left of the photo of me) which would start buzzing once our order was ready for collection. Jos kept eyeing the thing anxiously in case we would miss it.

The sky was darkening with the forecasted rainclouds, so we made our way back, leaving the park the way we'd come, through Artist's Entrance by John Körmeling (top right and bottom left) with its distinctive mid-century flavour.

On the top left is another one of my favourites, Firmament III (2009) by Antony Gormley, of Angel of the North fame, with Two Figures in Relation (1954) by Bernhard Heiliger on the bottom right. My eye was caught by one of the museum's silver chairs, which someone had put between the two figures in question, giving a whole new dimension to the sculpture.

It started raining soon after we'd returned home, but there was a brief respite later in the afternoon, enabling us to make some outfit photos in the garden.

I was wearing a wool skirt by Escada and purple cardigan, both charity shopped, and a psychedelic print blouse from Think Twice. The beaded necklace was another charity shop find, while you might recognize the brooch as one of my latest flea market treasures. My zebra print belt was a retail buy back in November, but has already more than earned its keep.

I'll be back with more December break outfits in my next post.

Old and New Year Ditties

The year is tiptoeing towards its end, the clocks tick-tocking away its final hours.

The calendar on the wall, once as fresh-faced as a newborn, has lost all but one of its pages. Like a  tree that lets go of its leaves in Autumn, it marks the dying of the year.

Its final page, which only 30 days ago announced, with much fanfare, the start of that whirlwind of a month, December, has gotten wrinkled and dog-eared with use.

We have come full circle again in this strange man-made concept of time and like the trees that have shed their leaves, we are taking time to pause and reflect and, eventually, renew.

I'm  hopelessly nostalgic at the best of times, but never more so than at the end of December, when we're on the cusp of another year.

This is a time to reflect and count one's blessings. To be maudlin and shed a tear or two. To mourn the past year and its losses and to rejoice in its gains.

Traditionally, this is a time for fresh starts and new beginnings.

A time for New Year's resolutions you know very well will never be kept - even recalcitrant me is making them subconciously.

My Christmas Eve outfit:wearing 1960s shift dress accessorized with assorted charity shopped bangles, 

a vintage brooch and a necklace, ring and pair of rosebud sprinkled tights once bought from the high street. 

Be kinder, be a glass-half-full kind of person, be less afraid of change ... the list is endless but in the end I cannot change who I am. And what's more, do I even want to? 

And why, oh why, even wait until this symbolic date to make changes if you really want to?

“Every moment is a fresh beginning.” ~T.S. Eliot

Jos's Christmas Day outfit, featuring a green waistcoat from a vintage shop in Welshpool 

and his best pocket watch which used to be belong to his eldest brother

To be in good health and to live in the moment: that's about all I am wishing for. I do not ask for much. It's the little things that make me the happiest.

The world outside our window seems sapped of colour, at first glance grey and unappealing, the leafless trees reaching up their gnarly bare branches to the sky.

They do not ask for much either, just another year will see them right.

Another Spring for their saps to rise, their buds to grow, their leaves to unfurl. To blossom, however briefly, on the mildest of May days.

 Another Summer to provide shelter under their shady green canopies.

Another Autumn to put on a fireworks display of turning leaves, for birds to feast upon their berries and seeds.

Another Winter to lay dormant, their tangle of branches and lacework of twigs silhouetting against an ever-changing sky, a place of rest for the restless birds.

Yes, we have come full circle again, and in a handful of hours we'll lay the old year to rest and raise our glasses - our cups of kindness - to a new one full of hopes and dreams, wishing that at least some of them come true. 

My Christmas Day outfit: vintage maxi dress worn with a symphony of faux pearls, consisting of a vintage 

Christmas wreath brooch and a necklace from the high street. Charity shopped sparkly teal cardigan 

with another vintage Christmas wreath brooch pinned to it. The ring was another high street find.

So, I am starting the year with a ray of hope for the future year, a glimmer of Spring to come offered by this small clump of delicate Snowdrops caught on camera in a local park only a couple of days ago.

Nor will I then thy modest grace forget,

Chaste Snow-drop, venturous harbinger

of Spring, And pensive monitor of fleeting years!

~ William Wordsworth, from "To a Snow-Drop" 

Happy New Year!

* The post's title is borrowed from Christina Rossetti's poem of the same name, dated 1853