Monday 18 March 2024

A waterlogged walk

The weather, as well as my mood, had its ups and downs in the first week of March. Although the temperature was reasonably well-behaved and kept flitting around the double digits, the weather gods were in one of their moods again. They were sulking for no apparent reason and sending us sunshine one day and all-day rain the next.

The weather's continuing fickleness has been affecting my mood and both my mental wellbeing and my energy levels have been suffering as a result. Still, I've been trying to find a slice of happiness in the small things, which that week included the sight of some cheerful golden daffodils during Wednesday's lunchtime stroll to the Botanical Garden.



That same day, on my way back to the office, I couldn't resist taking a photo of a shop selling Antwerpse Handjes, the famous hand-shaped biscuits referring to the legend of Brabo and Antigoon. 

According to said legend, Antigoon was an evil giant who demanded tolls from people wanting to cross the river and cut off the hands of those who refused to pay. After slaying the giant, Brabo - a brave Roman soldier - gave him a taste of his own medicine by cutting off his hand and throwing it into the river Scheldt. As per popular belief, the city's name - Antwerpen - is derived from the act of Brabo throwing the hand, which is 'handwerpen" in Flemish. Whether there is any truth in it or not, the hand became a symbol of Antwerp, appearing on the city seal as early as the thirteenth century.

The little hand-shaped biscuits were developed in 1934, and are therefore celebrating their 90th anniversary this year. If you look closely  you'll be able to see that the celebratory 90 is entirely made up of these iconic biscuits!



Another source of happiness is of course our little monster, Bess, who was celebrating an anniversary of her own that week. The 4th of March marks the third anniversary of that fateful day that she came to live at Dove Cottage back in 2021. 

It's nothing short of heart-warming that she welcomes me home in the evening by jumping onto my lap the minute I sit down. She often cannot wait until I have taken off my coat and boots!



And finally, there's my current read, which has me entirely in its grip, although admittedly I'm often too tired after work to read more than just a couple of paragraphs. Looking on the bright side, however, my slower progress will allow me to savour it just that little bit longer!



Work had been busy and stressful, so I was more than glad to be able close the office door behind me on Thursday afternoon, having opted to sacrifice another day of my holiday quota to take Friday off. 

We slept until about 7.30, when a crew of workmen arrived to repair the sinkhole in the gutter between our house and our neighbour's, caused by the digging up of our pavement to lay fast fibre back in September. The fibre crew's notorious inefficiency has been causing problems left, right and centre, in our case resulting in a burst sewer pipe. Discovered early November, it took a crazy amount of phonecalls from Jos to the local council - the last one containing a threat to involve the local TV news station - until finally something was done about it. 




The black floral Mae Scott frock was part of a Think Twice birthday haul in September 2020. 
I picked up the orange in its pattern using various shades of orange with my vinyl and elastic belt - an ancient retail buy - a charity shopped tiled necklace and an orange and green mottled brooch picked up from a flea market.

One of my heart-patterned King Louie cardigans - in teal this time - was layered on top, with a vintage orange flower brooch pinned to it. Emerald green opaques and a pair of charity shopped pine green ankle boots completed my outfit.



Although it was a sunny day, a nippy wind made it feel a lot colder than the alleged highs of 10°C, and didn't exactly put us in the mood for a walk. Neither did we care much for a rummage at the charity shops. What with Saturday's Retro Day event, it would have been nothing short of frustrating to see all the cordoned off overpriced vintage stuff which people would be gullible enough to buy the next day.

Instead, Jos vacuumed and I pottered - I know, exciting! - in the end only leaving the house to run a couple of errands in the afternoon. These included picking up some felt sheets from a haberdashery shop which I needed to line yet more of those wooden brooch drawers gifted by Jos's friend.

On Saturday - we were the 9th of March by now - we'd been promised a springlike day with temperatures of up to 15°C, so I'm sure you can imagine our disappointment we were initially greeted by a solid grey sky.




Still, we were determined to make up for lost time and go for a walk a bit further afield. However, I was having an off-day, which was made worse by the lack of sunshine, so that I had to drag myself off the sofa and gear myself up into walking mode.

The further afield plans were ditched but, bored silly with our strolls in the local parks, we decided to drive down to Walenhoek, a nature reserve about 10 kilometers from Dove Cottage, in the village of Niel. 

But lo and behold: as I was putting on my coat, the sun had decided to make an appearance after all, which instantly boosted my mood!

By the time we'd parked our car, whole gaps had appeared in the blanket of grey which was soon replaced by a bright blue sky filled with wisps of white clouds.




Our previous visit here, which I was incredulous to note dated from April 2023, was marred by roadworks and the presence of a whole community of illegal fishermen who'd set up their tents at the edge of the reserve's plethora of ponds.

But although there was no longer any sign of road diversions, it soon became apparent that those pesky fishermen hadn't upped and left during our absence.

It also soon became clear that the incessant rains of the last six months or so had left the highest water levels we'd ever seen here, with quite a few flooded areas as a result.

The tree on the top left, which now had its feet firmly planted into the pond, is the same one Jos is standing in front of on the top right (November 2020). On the bottom right, you can see it in its full Summer regalia (July 2020), while on the bottom left I am posing between its multiple trunks in January 2022.



We should have known it would be tempting fate to take the narrow reed-lined path running between two ponds (below, top left), and indeed we were soon halted in our tracks at a spot where the two ponds had joined forces to seriously flood the path.

There was nothing for it but to turn left onto the semi-flooded and muddy path (below, top right) and end up again on the path we'd originally started from.


This wasn't much of a hardship, though, particularly when we spotted the cormorant who, in spite of  giving us the side-eye, willingly posed for me and another photographer. 



Thinking on my feet, I announced to Jos that I was going to make our walk circular by taking a right turn and then a left. This would take us to a fishing club's pond and then away from the wetlands through a stretch of woodland.


However, my first attempt failed miserably as the right turn I'd confidently taken turned out to be the wrong one, dead-ending at the edge of another pond.

With no fellow walkers to disturb us, we declared this the perfect spot for outfit photos. The weather was balmy enough to take off my coat and scarf and show you what I was wearing underneath. There was even a tree at hand which turned out to the perfect coat stand!




The sky blue dress with its intriguing geometrical print was long overdue an outing. It was bought at Episode, part of a Dutch chain of vintage shops, in 2015.

For obvious reasons, I always seem to pair it with oodles of yellow, in this case in the form of my opaques, necklace and charity shopped Who's That Girl cardigan with its white and two-tone blue chevron pattern. To the latter, I pinned a blue flower corsage found on a flea market. 

You'd be forgiven for thinking that the blue fabric belt came with the dress, but it didn't. It used to belong to dress which is no longer in my wardrobe, but which I sold without the belt as I'd forgotten its existence.



Finally on the right track by taking the correct right turning, we were faced with another hurdle when we tried to find the left turning we needed. As in normal circumstances this path narrowly bridges two ponds, it had almost disappeared. Spurred on by a young couple who were walking in front of us and who eventually gave us the all-clear, we decided to brave it. On the top left, you can see Jos negotiating the narrow stretch of mud between the trees, which was all that was left of the path.

The views left and right to the ponds were nothing short of magical! 



By the time we made it past the fishing club's pond and into the woods, the sun was hiding behind a layer of grey again. 

Thankfully, the inevitable rain had the decency to hold off until long after we got back home!



The weekend still had one more trick up its sleeve, as we had the March edition of the indoor flea market to look forward to on Sunday.

But that, my friends, will be for next time!



Wednesday 13 March 2024

Life in March

March at last, and soon we'll be bidding farewell to Winter and welcome Spring. 

As if that isn't enough to put a spring in my step this will also be my last month of full-time employment, ever. The end of an era, so to speak, and about time too. No more squandering part of my holiday quota on those much needed Fridays off. No more measly two-day weekends in which there's never enough time to call my own. The First of April cannot come soon enough!


But we're not there just yet, and as the thought of another month of five-day working weeks made me break on in a sweat, I decided to take Friday the First of March off. 

It had been a grey and rainy week, so the sunshine which greeted us that morning was welcomed with open arms. Sadly, however, it didn’t last: by the time we'd finished breakfast it had turned into another  miserable and windblown day. One of those washed-out days which needed a hefty dose of colour!

The temperature might have reached double digits - if only just - a nasty wind made it feel quite a bit chillier, so that I needed some warmth as well. 




My bottle green faux-suede skirt was a pre-Covid retail buy from Mango and has proved to be worth its weight in gold. I couldn't imagine my Winter wardrobe without it!

This time around I paired it with a red patterned Diolen blouse - one of that week's Think Twice sales bargains  - which I topped with a charity shopped shaggy yellow cardigan. The multi-coloured wooden beads and the pale green suede belt with its groovy beaded buckle were charity shop finds as well. 

In honour of St. David's Day, I pinned a felted daffodil brooch to my blouse. It came all the way from Wales, purchased at the end of a most wonderful day spent at the National Trust owned Chirk Castle last June.



Obviously, the Diolen blouse wasn't the only thing that followed me home from the Think Twice sales that week. Over several lunch breaks, I found a round blue crochet bag (€ 4), a pair of wooden clog sandals from the Swedish Moheda brand (€ 2) and a floral button-through cotton skirt (€ 4, below bottom left and right).



The skirt on the top left and right is by Esprit and was my one and only charity shop find on Friday. I guess that in the run-up to the much maligned Retro Day - which would be on the 9th of March this year - there was little chance of any exciting finds ...

The rest of the day was spent doing some gentle pottering, which included rearranging my brooches and filling those additional wooden drawers Jos's friend was kind enough to supply me with. My attempts to count the number of brooches in my collection failed miserably, but at a rough guess I'd say there might be between 700 and 750 of them ... Oops!



As I was reclining on the sofa with my current read that evening, Bess jumped onto its back and actually allowed me to grab my phone and take several photos of her. Aren't our striped sitting room curtains an amazing backdrop for madam's state portraits? 



We woke up to the sun streaming through our windows again on Saturday morning, and this time she was here to stay until late afternoon. 

While enjoying our fruit & yoghurt that morning, we noticed that we weren't the only ones having breakfast. There's a family of mice living in our shed at the back of the garden and we loved watching the acrobatics of the most forward of the bunch who was climbing up and down the bird feeder.




I hadn't worn this wool-blend dress with its vibrant watercolour print for far too long, and with my Winter wardrobe soon to be on its way out, it was a question of now or never.

Charity shopped many years ago, it came with a self-fabric belt with a pink plastic buckle. However, I replaced the latter with a wide, bright pink suede belt picked up in last Summer's sales, as I wanted it to be in keeping with my necklace and my famous (or should that be infamous) pink suede boots.


Although they're both doing their best to hide from view, I was wearing a ring with a sage green stone and a pair of opaques in the same colour, matching the Miracle brooch I pinned to my dress's bodice.

Determined to make the most of the dry and relatively sunny weather, we opted for a visit to Middelheim Sculpture Park. It goes without saying that the pink boots didn't come along, but were replaced by the scruffy old pair I usually wear for our Winter walks.



Having found a convenient parking space which allowed us to get out of the car without stepping straight into a giant puddle, we entered through the so-called Artist's Entrance. 

Nothing is what it seems here, so I'm sure you won't be surprised that this is yet another work of art. 

The mushroom shaped canopy on its three slender pillars, which seems to be inspired by those iconic 1950s petrol stations, was created by Dutch artist John Körmeling (° 1951) in 2012. On top of the canopy the names of some of the resident artists are twinkling in lights, which looks particularly effective against a dark sky.



One of the first sights that greet you after the entrance itself is what looks like a building under construction, but is of course a work of art, called The Passage of the Hours, by Portuguese artist Pedro Cabrita Reis (°1956).  Measuring 8 x 8 x 24 metres, it is constructed of steel, brick, glass and fluorescent lamps.

The work refers simultaneously to a historic ruin and a recent remnant of a conflict. The artist himself is calling it a ‘serene disturbance’ and a "church without religion", the walls resembling the buttresses of a medieval cathedral. 



Before proceeding into the park proper, we passed the container installation on the top right which - you've guessed it - is a work of art as well. Created by the Belgian architect, urbanist and artist Luc Deleu (°1944), it dates from 2004 and is called Orbino.

The outlandish structure on the bottom left is called Sunwagon (1974) and is by another Belgian artist, Camiel van Breedam (°1936).  Apparently, it is meant to be - again in the words of the artist - a chariot made to transport the sun to an ideal place. It doesn't seem to be working though!


As the art in the park is still on the move, things tend to be a bit chaotic, with lots of empty plinths awaiting their new inhabitants. Some of the sculptures which have already been moved to their new spots are still looking a bit out of context but I'm sure it will all work out when this gargantuan task has finally been completed.

Instead of doing our usual tour of the park, keeping mainly to the part called Middelheim Hoog (High), we decided to cross the street and explore Middelheim Laag (Low).

As we were waiting at the zebra crossing, I took the opportunity to photograph the mural at the back of the castle. The mural is a work by the American artist Lawrence Weiner (°1940) and is called Wind and the Willows. The mural reads "Iron and gold in the air, pollen and smoke on the ground”, with the Dutch translation on top.


Having safely made it across the road, we walked on one of the main paths in Middelheim Laag, soon coming across the Column Pavilion (above, top left). Created by Belgian architect Charles Vandenhove (1927-2019) between 1984 and 1992, it is both a work of art and a pavillion for exhibiting smaller open-air art.

I'm sure some of the sculptures must be quite envious of Sphairos (1998) by the Austrian artist Franz West (1947- 2012), having a little shelter from the rain all of its own!

Once again, I neglected to investigate who the menacing creatures on opposite side of the pond are, but the four marble stones which are bathing in the water are aptly called The Bathers (1994). Their Italian creator, Luciano Fabro (1937-2007), drew on a long tradition of portraying bathers, but preferred to render his in non-figurative stone. The cold marble takes on an almost human quality as the sunlight reflects in the rippling water and onto the marble’s gleaming veins. The marble, at times, seems to move, particularly when a breeze makes the reflected leaves flutter.



On our way back we came across this creepy sculpture high up in a tree. A plaque identified it as one of Two figures for Middelheim (1993) by the Spanish sculptor Juan Muñoz (1953-2001).

There was no sign of the second one, though ...

Muñoz robs his bronze figures of any illusion of movement, sight and speech. While sculptors like Rodin endeavoured to make their figures as animated as possible, Muñoz drew attention to the immobility of a bronze sculpture. His figures have no legs and are imprisoned in a straitjacket that resembles a sack, while their arms hang down lifeless like the limbs of a ragdoll. And if this were not tragic enough, he installs them at unreachable height in a tree, separating them from one another with a pathway. 

 It's clear we'll have to go back when the second one has been installed as well.


I'm leaving you now with a quick look at Sunday's outfit. Both the grey wool skirt criss-crossed with yellow, red, green, black and white diagonals, and the green short-sleeved Dralon cardigan were vintage finds from Think Twice, my yellow flower patterned jumper came from Oxfam and both the red necklace and my green ankle boots were charity shopped. 



My green beaded brooch was a flea market find and, finally, my half-elasticated belt with its massive square buckle was a sales bargain from a high street shop.

That's all for now, I hope to see you again soon!



Friday 8 March 2024

Ballad of the sad castle

It was Saturday the 24th of February, and we woke up with the rain pitter-pattering against our bedroom window. In spite of having had the luxury to sleep in, we still had a hard time dragging ourselves out of bed, and it was due to Bess's persistence that we finally made it downstairs. Contrary as cats are, she then promptly made herself comfortable in my recently vacated spot for one of her beauty sleeps.

The rain petered out while we were having breakfast, leaving a dry day with the odd sunny spot in its wake. 


At a miserly 6°C accompanied by a chilly wind, I knew I needed to dress warmly, which made me base my outfit around the recently charity shopped & Other Stories blanket skirt. Scanning my shelves of tops, my eyes settled on the blue, purple-patterned Wow To Go blouse I picked up from an outlet shop in November 2022. Aren't they a match made in heaven? When I repeated the outfit later that week, my friend Inez initially thought I was wearing a dress!



I echoed my tan pleated belt, which is Massimo Dutti by way of a charity shop, with my faithful tan mock croc boots and the funky mushroom brooch I found at the flea market the other week.

Although not actually matching any of my outfit's colours, I added a necklace of multi-coloured beads, matching my chunky plastic ring to the turquoise ones.



A morning of productive pottering was followed by our usual weekend lunch of homemade soup, after which we weighed up the pros and cons of going for a walk. However, it was really rather grim out there even in our sheltered passageway so, after making outfit photos we soon scuttled back inside.

Bess had been watching us from the kitchen table and Jos managed to catch her mid-yawn. Or perhaps she was just expressing her sentiment about the weather ...



We were still dithering about whether or not to go for a wee walk, and I'd actually already chucked my walking boots into the boot of the car, when the eye-stinging wind made us reconsider.

There was nothing for it but to go on a wee charity shopping trip instead, our first port of call being the Oxfam shop in Wilrijk. Pickings weren't plentiful as, apart from the books you'll get to see in a moment, I only found a green embroidered short-sleeved jumper.

The blue ribbed waterfall cardigan by Esprit and the denim blue skirt by the Belgian designer Nathalie Vleeschouwer were picked up from our local charity shop where we stopped off on our way home.



I was riffling through a rail of jumpers when my fingers met the sensory delight of the softest of knits which, on closer inspection, turned out to belong a cobalt blue jumper with a ruffled collar. I gasped when I saw the Sonia Rykiel label, shaking my head in disbelief at the fact that its price tag was a mere € 5,90.  Sonia Rykiel (1930-2016) was a French fashion designer whose knitwear designs led her to be dubbed the "Queen of Knits".



Back at Oxfam, I was thrilled to stumble across Affinity by Sarah Waters. I became hooked after finding The Night Watch last year - in the same shop, if I remember correctly - and this will be my fourth novel by her. It is waiting in the wings for when I've finished my current read.

The De Westhoek book dates from 1979 and tells a pictorial story, with atmospheric black and white photos, about Belgium's west country and the area where we've been spending our September holidays for many years in particular.



Poor lighting courtesy of the dismal weather we'd been having of late had prevented me from photographing the rest of the previous weekend's charity shop finds. So here they are. Both the dress and the blouse are by the defunct Belgian Who's That Girl label. For the record: they were picked up in the charity shop in Mechelen on Saturday the 17th. Knowing the label - and its sister Wow To Go - quite well I instantly spotted the blouse although it was hiding on the nightwear rail!




Fast forwarding again to Sunday the 25th. Slightly warmer and with less wind to throw a spanner in the works, it nevertheless was one of those days on which the weather gods seemed to be in disagreement. Angry black rainclouds alternated with patches of blue and sudden and often short-lived sunny spells.

Another Winter favourite - a textured polyester dress with a kind of Moroccan tile print - came out to play. It was joined by a chunky knit orange long-line cardigan, rust-coloured opaques and blue Western style mid-calf boots.



My accessories were a mix of vintage (carved floral brooch), charity shopped (beaded necklace and orange perspex ring) and retail (tan mock croc belt).

The weather forecast insisted it would rain in the afternoon, so we decided upon a quick head-clearing walk in the morning, for which we drove to our neighbouring village, Edegem.




Surprisingly, we hadn't visited Hof ter Linden and its crumbling castle since June, at which time we'd just skirted the domain and walked along the reed-edged moat. In fact, our penultimate close encounter with the poor castle had been well over a year ago!

As we were walking up the the cobbled avenue lined with a double row of age-old lime trees, the sun decided to do one of her disappearing acts, leaving an almost black and white landscape. The only pops of colour were provided by the mosses and a pair of green parakeets cavorting among the tangle of branches (above, bottom left).


Before crossing the moat and entering the courtyard through the ornate wrought iron gates, we were halted in our tracks by the sight of what we supposed was some kind of orangery - well, there was a potted orange tree in there - which we couldn't remember having seen before. So, either our memories failed us completely, or the thing had been half-hidden by exuberant shrubbery before.



After admiring and investigating it from all angles, we stepped through the gates and into the courtyard, which is flanked by beautifully restored coach houses and stables. I guess the one on the east side must have been the stables judging from the name of the fancy restaurant located here.

Contrary to its opposite neighbour, Brasserie Hof ter Linden, it didn't seem to be open on a Sunday, which was confirmed by a quick look at their website. 



The castle itself was beckoning us as usual, but it was with more than just a little trepidation that we walked into its direction. 

Before we could advance any closer, however, a group of scouts cubs arrived and installed themselves into the four columned portico to eat their packed lunches.




We hastily retreated around the back, where we were sad to see that the castle's increasing state of deterioration is still ongoing, and quite heart-breakingly so.

There has been talk of restoring the castle for many years, but so far it hasn't happened. Now it seems that plans are getting concrete and that the much awaited restoration works, which are estimated to cost around five million euros, are expected to start this spring. 

They say hope springs eternal, but I'd have to actually see it to believe it. They'll certainly have their work cut out to restore what I can't help keep thinking of as the Iced Castle to its former glory.




One thing that's been happening is that earlier this year a start has been made with clearing the sludge from the clogged-up castle pond and moat. This did somewhat limit our options, as it ruled out taking  the path around the pond as we often do. 



Instead we walked back the way we'd come, giving the scout cubs who were still enjoying their lunch a wide birth, and having a good old gossip with the resident lions, sphinxes and cherubs instead.







Sunday 3 March 2024

Confessions of a Broochaholic

Can you believe it's March already? Never mind that January and February felt neverending at times, in hindsight they seem to have passed in the blink of an eye. It's all a bit of a blur though, so I'm glad of my blog keeping track of time, enabling me to look back and see how I spent my days.

It's almost beyond belief that I've been regularly churning out blog posts for 8 years now. When Beate recently went on a trip down memory lane to October 2015, she was surprised when I commented that I wasn't a citizen of blogland yet at the time. But yes, it's definitely true that I only published my first post on the 5th of March 2016!



But I'm running ahead of myself again, as here I am, ready for February's edition of our favourite indoor flea market on Sunday the 18th. 

It was the perfect day for it, as it was wet and very windy, which made the alleged highs of 9°C feel quite a bit chillier. It might, in fact, have been a tad too chilly for this purple and white diamond patterned vintage dress I insisted on giving its first outing and therefore required a couple of layers.

I'm rather partial to a purple paired with chartreuse, so I opted for a pair of opaques, a purple-edged cardigan and a triple strand necklace in the latter. 




On my feet, my super comfy caramel suede lace-up ankle boots. They're from a label called No Stress  and were a charity shop find in December 2022. They really do live up to their name: even lacing them up is stressless as they've got handy side zippers!

Vintage dress from Think Twice
Soaked in Luxury cardigan: charity shopped
Necklace: flea market find
Peacock feather brooch: charity shopped in Llangollen in June 2019
Opaques: high street sales bargain



Now on to the flea market!

We'd hardly walked in when, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted this rather spectacular wicker tote bag. As I made a beeline for it, I realized I recognized the stall, which turned out to belong to Wannes and Ilona. We first met this lovely couple on a flea market in Antwerp in the early days of my blog, and their well curated stall always draws us like a magnet.

The tote bag is lined in a fabulous floral fabric and came with a surprise wash bag which was hiding at the bottom.



As Wannes was kindly putting it aside for us to pick up later, I scanned the rest of the stall and was captivated by this cute little lidded wicker bag, which obviously had to come home with me as well. In my mind's eye - or should that be ear - I could hear the IKEA coat stand in our bedroom heaving a big sigh.

I also found the first of the day's brooches here, which you'll get to see later on.



I shilly-shallied over the T.G. Green Cornishware Raisins canister. Although its asking price was a mere € 5, I walked away because it was missing its lid. We'd hardly gone a couple of meters when the seller came running after us bearing the canister and declaring we could have it for € 3. Well, who were we to say no? When I posted it on Instagram later that day, someone in the know told me it was an absolute bargain!



It was an excellent market for brooches, as I added no less than 10 of them to my collection. 

Below, clockwise from top left: enamelled mushroom brooch, wooden deer brooch (from Wannes and Ilona), wood look flower brooch and Edelweiss hiking souvenir brooch, both made from some kind of early plastic.



Below, from left: glass beaded brooch, diamanté and gold-tone lobster brooch and green and translucent paste brooch. They were all picked up from the heaped costume jewellery stall of another flea market habitué: a very chatty older lady who lives in the next village to ours.



The middle of the next row of brooches also came from her, while the other two, which are among my favourites, are from separate random stalls. The funky enamelled one on the left was the most expensive at € 12, while the souvenir brooch from the tiny but picturesque city of Dinant in Wallonia - the French speaking part of Belgium - surprisingly was only € 6.



After I've been asked more than once if I've still got space for all the brooches I keep finding and how exactly I'm storing them, I thought it was time I enlightened those readers who aren't already in the know. 

It all started innocently enough when the handful of modern brooches I already owned were joined by the first of the vintage ones I found on flea markets and in charity shops. Slowly but surely my collection was growing until the boxes I was keeping them in were starting to overflow.



When Jos mentioned my predicament to a friend, he came up with a fantastic solution in the form of several dark wooden drawers which were originally used to store his collection of coins. Soon, the original three were no longer adequate, at which point I was given another three, as well as the big black hinged box (below) in which I'm keeping my most fragile and precious ones. Contrary to the others in my collection, these are rarely worn for fear of damaging them.



Still my collection kept growing until it got rather cramped inside those lovely wooden drawers. 

In December 2018 my dream of finding one of those antique wooden chests with glass-fronted drawers, formerly used to display sewing threads in haberdashery shops, finally came true. Until then, the ones we had come across had been eye-wateringly expensive, so we were overjoyed to find this one for an affordable price as its top was slightly cracked.



That was five years ago, but apart from a brief lull courtesy of Covid-19, I obviously didn't stop collecting as, let's face it, they're rather addictive. They're such a fun thing to collect and generally quite affordable too. I rarely spend more than € 15  on a brooch and the vast majority of my finds were less than € 10.

To cut a long story short: I am yet again at risk of running out of space. But fear not: help has already arrived, as I've recently acquired another two of those wooden drawers and an additional hinged box ...




It was back to the office on Monday, and with the grey and rainy week that followed, it was at times hard to stay positive, particularly since work was relentless. 

Still, I was determined to find some things to smile about each day. 

As I was running an errand at Hema - a well-known Dutch chain of department stores - the sight of the row of Miffy cushions lining the escalators to the second floor made me whip out my phone. At the same time, they're emphasizing the demise of the restaurant which used to be up there, and which was inexplicably closed at the end of last year.



Another smile came in the form of this Tiffany-style owl lamp which came to live at Dove Cottage on Wednesday, a gift from Jos's youngest daughter An. Isn't he fabulous?




I only worked half a day on Friday - we were the 23rd by now - which was nothing short of a blessing for more than one reason. Regular as clockwork, a neverending succession of concrete mixers are turning up at the Art Deco tower building each Friday, making one hell of a headache inducing racket.

Although I've got to admit that those candy-striped mixers do look quite the part from our 5th floor perch ...


The overnight storm called Louis, with lots of rain, had brought the temperature down to 8°C by Friday.

It was still drizzly and miserable, so I didn't wear my pink suede boots out. However, as they turned out to be a perfect match with my outfit, I insisted on wearing them for that day's outfit photos.

And no, my dress isn't grey but the kind of green my camera refuses to register. Its fabric is sprinkled with multicoloured hundreds and thousands.




I guess it won't be a surprise when I tell you the dress came from Think Twice? However, I did replace its rather nondescript buttons with vintage green ones with a bit of pink in it from my stash.  

Both my pink plastic ring and the pink belt edged in green plastic stitching were found on the high street, the latter a sales bargain from Mango in the Summer of 2022. The pale pink beads are from a long-gone vintage shop, and the pink and white metal peacock brooch was a charity shop find in May 2016. Without the aid of my blog, it would have been impossible to keep track of those things!