In lovely news, Little Miss 8 has returned to Belgium. We've spent these last couple of weeks, lying on the bed, reading for an hour or two most days. We have now reached Book 5 of Harry Potter.
We re-enrolled at her old school today and everyone seemed very pleased to see her again.
I am.
Sometimes, our house just fills right back up again and my responsibilities change.
I am currently buried in the cleaning of this quirky little Belgian house, babysitting, and stuff.
They booked their visit months ago. It was written into 'the book' and then time passed, in its usual haphazard manner. Being me, I lost track but suddenly, despite this non-participation with regard to time, it was 25 August and voila, they were here.
I met Clare in Istanbul and adored her there. She left, we stayed in contact and Gert and I had the joy of photographing her British wedding to the lovely Chris ...
This friendship, it's been lovely so far.
Yesterday we wandered the city ending our day at Taverne Ter Rivierenhof, with unlimited exceptionally exquisite Mosselen a Velonte, Scampi in Lookboter, and Stoverij. Bliss!
This morning a traditional Belgian breakfast was enjoyed by all, conversations too, and then afternoon saw them disappear on our bikes, exploring this city Clare has only visited during colder months. Chris has never been here ... it was therefore imperative that he went wandering.
Last heard of, they were leaving the Open Air Sculpture Park called Middelheim, heading for the famous Het Elfde Gebod - a pub full of religious statues, bought when the Catholic Church entered its minimalist phase.
There have been a couple of serious downpours but we're thinking they're fine. She's an intrepid soul, as is he ... and we're looking forward to the stories that will surely be told over Shepherd's Pie and Pavlova tonight.
Oh ... and red wine too. Belgian beers for the boys we're thinking - in the style of an anthropological-style ethnography. Gert's been introducing all the blokes to the new beer by Duvel Tripel Hop. So far, everyone he has introduced to this new limited edition beer to, has looked like they have partaken of a miracle upon supping from their Duvel glass.
Even Clare toyed with not returning Chris's glass to him after a taste of the Duvel, despite the fact that we in the midst of our own red wine religious experience. That, my friends, is how good the Duvel Tripel Hop is ...
Anyway, meet Chris and Clare.
Sometimes, there is this feeling of mind-flight when I work with the camera.
It's not about me in a place, planning out a series of shots ... hyper-aware of angles and light and lenses. It's simply about turning up and falling into that space where all is obvious and instinctive.
Could I explain it to anyone?
Probably not. It's about feeling and it's mostly unconscious.
I love finding that flow ...
I do minimal work on my portraits in Photoshop ... minimal because I think it's more important that people see that they are beautiful and not in need of photoshopping however ... my daughter goes in there and tweaks just the subtlest things in the most beautiful ways
She is an artist in Photoshop ... and she gave me three variations of the same photograph, having done minimal work on them.
There was a huge amount of squawking and hysteria out in the chicken coop this morning ...
Immediate investigation by the Australian bloke revealed the Ms Inquisitive Chicken had climbed the ladder to the first floor and was completely ignoring her Rooster bloke's demands that she come down.
She spent some time up there and at the time of removal, was busy admiring herself in a mirror she'd found.
The lovely American risked life and limb ... well, attack by said rooster, and brought her back to the yard. Here they are, posing together.
This shot was taken out in the cobblestone yard of the big old house in Wallonia. The white background came courtesy of an old wooden barn door and the hat was a treasure recently found by Alysha at the Waterloo Market.
She used cosmetics on her eyes but that was it. What the light did with her skin, was nothing short of miraculous. I was stunned, once again, by the magic of eyes.
We had such fun. I'll put up a gallery of this shoot, and the shoot with that lovely Australian bloke, soon.
One of the wildcards, in terms of my photography, is that I have no set way of doing things ... there is no structure or formula.
Each person ... each portrait shoot, is a new journey. A setting off into the unknown
Sometimes I think about being terrified in these unfamilar settings, working in unknown or ever-changing light, with a person who may or may not trust me in my attempt at capturing them. But then I remember ... this is the space where the magic happens.
And so it was with the American ...
I didn't realise how much I love a bunch of flowers in a new place ... not just in Genova but in anyplace new. They are surely a way to arrive ... a way to feel 'at home'.
The Sweetpeas have been abundant in the garden herein Wallonia. They remind me of my childhood back home in Mosgiel. My mum loved them.
We were up early out here in the country this morning, a pavlova made from freshly-laid eggs went into the oven straight after breakfast. Gert whipped up a batch of his sultana and frangipani bread ... Welcome home gifts for the family who gave us their beautiful house for a couple of weeks.
Now to clean and leave for 't stad. Meanwhile, my beautiful flowers ...
Maybe it's animalness that will make the world right again: the wisdom of elephants, the enthusiasm of canines, the grace of snakes, the mildness of anteaters. Perhaps being human needs some diluting.
Carol Emswhwiller, from Carmen Dog.
Momo took all the balls to his bed under the stairs ... game over.
Quote found over at Terri's marvellous blog.
This morning, we were first up and active here in the big old house in the country ... as is mostly the case but I decided I would try releasing the hens and their rooster.
It's a process. You find all the scraps from the previous day, add some dry bread, find the big stick and then venture forth. You walk the course to their water trough, and drop the bulk of the food there, then wander back to the big door and prepare yourself ... not unlike the prep required for an Olympic 100m dash.
I threw the door open and took off ... sprinkling bread as I ran. Laughing because, for-goodness-sake, they're just little creatures.
I looked behind me, the little brown hen, nicknamed Curious Chicken, was right there on my heels but the others were nicely distracted by all kinds of things. I may have thrown the food container aside as I sprinted. They recognised it.
Gert and Momo, the dog who protects all his humans, stood up near the outdoor dining table ... I believe they were both laughing too.
Mission accomplished, I returned to the table and we sat there a while to watch them ... as you do.
I noticed a little black hen climb into the sweetpeas. She didn't come out. I pointed it out, suggesting we might have solved the mystery of the rest of the missing eggs. We waited until she came out then found the big stick, called Momo ... was distracted an attack of the giggles as he played sillymomodog around my feet ... then set out.
Hot on the heels of Sabine discovering 7 missing eggs at the base of the Livingstone Daisy last night, we struck paydirt again this morning. ELEVEN eggs had been laid at the base of my beloved Sweetpeas.
I must say, the hens have good taste. The Livingstones and the Sweetpeas would have to be two of my favourite flowers.
In the space of 12 hours we have gone from the bizarre situation of hens and no eggs to hens and 18 eggs, just in time for the big happy family returning from France.
Anyway, meet Himself and his Women.
Gert and I have twice enjoyed one of the Europe's top 10 markets ... the Waterloo Market, in recent days. We first heard of it via BBC's Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is and loved the idea that we could rummage around, with the possibility of finding both genuine antiques and quirky collectables there. As a New Zealander, from a country young in collectable material history, I loved the age of everything ... and the European flavour too.
The market is held every Sunday, in the carpark of the Carrefour supermarket in Waterloo. There are so many small stalls that it took us 3 hours walking to explore them all today. Last weekend, unprepared for the heat and having left the house without breakfast, we gave up our exploration as heat exhaustion set in.
This Sunday we were ready. A good breakfast, sunhats, a bottle of water, comfortable shoes ... no worries, mate. We were off and wandering with relaxed intent.
And I came home with a few small treasures. I couldn't afford the beautiful 19th century travel writing desk at 40euro, nor could I justify the darling old 1960s opera binocular glasses 10euro, or the exquisitely-shaped whisky hip flask but ... I did buy a pipe-rack for 7 euro. The quote on it will make a pipe-collector of me. And I picked up my first, a clay-pipe, for 3euro.
But it was the little blue leather coin purse pictured below, by Neiman Marcus, that I loved best. The woman gave it to me for 1euro when she saw I only had a 20euro note. I wasn't even haggling because she had only wanted 3euro total.
It works like a pelican's beak perhaps. The silk-lined leather pouch expands as you fill it with coins. I love it.
Parking isn't usually a problem, there are clean toilets in the Carrefour complex, and there is a range of places to eat. The market itself is laid out in an easy to explore grid too - so we backtracked to a couple of retailers, just in case the traveling writing desk became justifiable ...
Highly recommended.
Last night, I realised that I had driven to Frankfurt in Germany and back without any form of ID on me. The German police would not have been impressed had they checked ...
You can go to jail for 12 hours in Belgium, if you're caught like that here, although they let me off the one time that was discovered.
Anyway, this was how that massive day ended ... 3 Aussies, a kiwi and a Belgian, sitting round a big old outside fire, chatting.
There's a story about the boots. Will ask the questions when I interview him.
You know those days when you feel like you're flying in your chosen field?
Well ... yesterday I had an impromptu photo-shoot with this guy, an Australian singer, songwriter and wanderer, and I'm quietly rapt with the results. Interview to follow one day soon.
I wandered downstairs, still bubbling with joy after two back-to-back, rather successful, photoshoots and I saw this from the first floor window ...
The American and the Aussie prepared dinner tonight. The sun has returned and yes, we all ate outside. It was lovely.
Tonight, here in Wallonia.
At the table tonight, an American, an Australian, 2 Rwandans, and this New Zealander. An excellent end to a day that started challengingly.
There's no place like home ...
You get to capture the bedtime storytime too ...
The beauty of moving in with a family to capture a 24-hour slice-of-their-lives is that you get to take photographs like this ... where your presence is forgotten and life goes on as normal.
