These Freezing Days in Antwerp ...

Wiinter has finally arrived.  I've been trying to ignore it, despite preferring that the seasons come and go in a natural way, however ... minus 20 celsius is simply rude.

And I wouldn't know about -20 celsius (reached due to a -11 frost the other day and combined with windchill factor) but I sometimes get to do the 2 hour-round-trip that is getting Miss 7 to school this year.  4 trams and some brisk walking.  A trip that involves a leather and sheepskin coat that weighs as much as an adult polar bear (my estimate in terms of weight) and multiple layers, with hiking boots, hat, gloves, and a scarf.

Tomorrow we have to be out the door by 7.30am and this morning, the radio weather people predicted a temp of -20 celsius.  I'm not excited about this.  I arrive home completely drained by the freezing cold bleak cityscape.  As I write this, at 9.31am, I checked in on my old blog and the weather there ... it's still -11.

I phoned Gert.  He works in one of the old guild houses in the city ... the pipes are frozen there.  They

have no water.  He's a bit glum too. 

However,the sun is shining. The heaters at home are working.  I did pick up my camera in an attempt to ward off thinking of the fact I have to race across the city later this afternoon.  I did see some nice light outside.  It's the view out the window behind me, here at my desk. 

Yes that is snow. 

Yes really, many Belgian home owners don't clear snow from the pavements outside their house.

Yes, walking anyplace here at the moment is increasingly treacherous as it freezes and freezes.

Well yes ... Monday is feeling kind of challenging, actually.  I'm here trying to write myself into a better mood.  It's not working, is it :-)

My very first newsletter is due out tomorrow.  If you would like to take a look, leave a comment and I will forward you a copy.  The first is going out to Everyone I know ... just that one time, then you are welcome to subscribe if it seems like something you would like to continue receiving.

And now ... to work.  Tot ziens.

In a previous life ...

In one of my previous lives, and I've had more than a few so far, I used to bake, and to cook impromptu dinners for other people. 

I loved it but it was another time, before the pressure of a long list of things 'I must do' arrived.  Back then, I was a mother and a housewife, a dog owner, a wanderer but on a very small scale, while following my first husband's teaching career round the South Island of New Zealand.

I moved to Istanbul, the oven didn't work.  No baking was done.  Impromptu dinners were usually the stove-top cooked Persian Chicken.  Two years later and I arrived in Belgium where I was introduced to strange and unknown idea of a gas oven and really, I hated it.  Ours was a dodgy one.  The first and the second. 

Suddenly, due to an almost-Christmas-Eve oven failure, we have an electric one that almost works and voila, we're hosting Stephanie and Catalina tonight.  There's a big fat tasty Shepherds Pie ready to cook, with sultana scones as a dessert.   A 'dessert' fit for an Englishwoman and this homesick kiwi.  And quite immodestly, I'm delighted with the results.

And it seemed, to me, like the perfect way to say thank you to Stephanie and Catalina for inviting us along to our very first English pantomime here in Antwerpen on Sunday afternoon.  It was divine.  So very much what I had read of growing up but never actually attended.

Tot straks from this kiwi in Belgium

a few days and good friends ...

I have some truly remarkable friends and I've been busy with some of them.

Shannon came visiting from Holland, arriving on Friday night, she stepped straight into a wee adventure, racing off to view the latest Jane Eyre movie with Ruth and I.

I had forgotten how much fun the movies could be ... and it was a most excellent movie.

Shannon and I wandered through Saturday ... starting late, we headed into the city and spent most of the day chatting in the lazy lovely way old friends chat.

She left on Sunday but not before we picked up Peter, the lovely tenor bloke I know, from the Airport bus.  We strolled across the big square outside Central Station, here in Antwerpen, and popped into the Zoo Cafe for a small wine-quaffing session.

Shannon left, and Peter came home to stay with Gert and I.  He's here for a few days before he jets back to his base in Berlin and so our days are full of conversation and photographs.  Jessie and I are updating his professional information photographically and he is being generally entertaining.

In other news, my daughter photographed me today.  I needed a publicity shot too.  It's quite the bizarre thing to be on the other side of the camera but voila ... hello from me here in the flatlands.

The Queen of England gave me camera shake ...

This photograph still makes me giggle ...

I have photographed actors on assignment for Canwest, and prime ministers, more than once, governor generals x two and high-ranking soldiers. 

I have photographed musicians and world famous artists and authors but no-one made me shake until the Queen of England looked directly down my camera lens. 

But no one ...

It could have been so good.  I was so close, with an unrestricted view but, for me, this New Zealander who had grown up immersed in stories of this fabulous English queen, it was like seeing a unicorn and realising it was a true story.

Camera Shake ... best avoided.

Surrounded ...

These last few days ...

These last few days have been a psychedelic whirl ... somehow. 

No drugs were taken, I hasten to add.

If I attempt to put past few days together, I would tell you that we had a horrific random shooting here in Belgium, where more than 120 were injured and 5 were killed. I was told about it when it was still breaking news and no one knew what was happening.  It left me disorientated at the end of the day.

Then there was my 17 hour marathon Friday but as it ended with red wine and time spent with a lovely friend, I shouldn't complain.  

Actually, that day was a little surreal, in terms of all I experienced.  Even the train trip home took on an odd quality when a lovely older Moroccan woman next to me started talking and ended up getting me to try her Coco Chanel perfume.  The 'odd' could be applied when you realise she spoke French and Arabic and I spoke English and Nederlands.  No language in common but when has that ever stopped me ...  There was much laughter and family photographs were exchanged and smiled over

Saturday and Sunday were spent in the company of the truly delicious Miss 7, who came out to street Christmas party with us in the evening.  The street party where Gert and I, along with others, spent some time trying to help a guy who collapsed there.  It was a relief when the ambulance arrived. 

We stayed on for a while, catching up with good people, most especially the 'justice of the peace' who married us back in 2006.  Sunday I look at the 'chaos' on my desk (let's not call it mess) and realised I had an Eithopian cross (pictured above), a Turkish prayer bracelet and necklace from Lhasa, all lying next to each other here. 

I love the stories and relics that pop up in this crazybeautiful life I sometimes get to lead.

But mostly, if I had to explain this absence from blogging, I would tell you it's because I've been working on this new website.  The website where there is still work to be done but perhaps I just have to throw out here in front of me.  I always want things perfect and, of course, nothing is ever 'perfect enough'. 

So, here I am, launching this new website.  More work to be done in the days ahead. I hope you enjoy it.  The url should switch to www.dimackey.com but for now, it is here.