Memory lane

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The old station building.  It closed many years ago.

Yesterday I read a really touching post called “Nostalgia” by Freespirit.  I was drawn to it because of the title.  I am quite sentimental (two huge containers in the garage filled with stuff I WILL still scrapbook is testimony to that!) so I thought it would be something along those lines.  It was more than that, though.  It was a reminder of how quickly time goes by and that often “we do not value those simple things in life that are more precious than gold“. It’s so true.

So inevitably it sent me down my own nostalgic road.  And the first thing I thought of was my parents and home – where I grew up.

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The entire town of Calvinia in one frame.

I was raised in a very small little town in South Africa, called Calvinia.  The town itself is part of the great Karoo, and if you were to ‘google’ the word Karoo it would tell you that it is a semi-desert area.  Strange, I never perceived it to be ‘desert’.  To me desert means sand, and although it is very dry and hot in summer, there is still shrubbery.  We call it “karoo-bossies” (‘bossies’ means bushes).  To the naked eye it would probably look dead, but their unmistakable smell (fragrant, almost herby) will let you know that they are very much alive and that its hard outer shell is just protection against the harsh sun.

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The quiet streets where I grew up.

The little town is surrounded by two mountain ranges.  I remember walking home from school and some days the hot “bergwinds” (mountain winds) would come rushing down the mountain, through my hair.  At times it almost took my breath away.  I would walk with my arms outstretched, trying to catch the wind, untying my hair so that the wind would send flying it in all directions.  I loved the feeling – carefee, invincible, alive.  In those moments I always thought that I could be anything, achieve anything.

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The view from my bedroom window.

And I loved the mountains.  My bedroom window had the most amazing view of the striking blue mountains that surrounds the town.  When sun went down the mountains would bask in an orange glow.  I never grew tired of it.  I spent many evenings sitting on my windowsill looking at it and drinking it all in.  Maybe this is where I get my peaceful nature from!

The town is really small, no more than a couple of thousand people living there.  This means hardly any light pollution and the result of that is an amazing night sky.  Words can’t do it justice, but the best way to describe it would be to image a black tablecloth scattered with diamonds, and packed as tightly against each other as if you poured salt between them. At night, as kids, we would lie on the grass for ages just staring up at the sky, looking at each twinkling little light.  Trying to see shooting stars or see who could first spot a satellite!  When my cousins from the city came to visit they were always in awe and could not believe that we were looking up at the same sky as what they did back home.

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Post Office and the church.

For all the hot and dry the summers, the winters were freezing cold.  Sometimes we would even have some snow (called “kapok”) on the higher mountains, but never in town.  And if it was a proper rainy winter we were rewarded in spring with the most beautiful phenomenon…

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Unused railroad tracks makes for a beautiful picture.

Come early August, the fields around the town turned green.  And it was not just the karoo-bossies.  It is almost something that cannot be described; just witnessed.  The wildflowers of spring.  How this dry and arid land could turn into a kaleidoscope of colours and smells…  As far as the eyes can see; orange and white daisies, purple “vygies” (a type of succulent), gazanias, little white flowers looking like a carpet of snowflakes… For a few weeks during August and September the town became a hive of activity as people from far and wide would come to see the spectacle.  It is really a magnificent performance by Mother Nature.

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I loved growing up there.  I would not trade it for anything.  I even met hubby there.  He is not from there, but he came through town for his work back then and we were both in the right place at the right time.  The rest is history!

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I left Calvinia the year after I finished school.  I’ve been back many times.  My parents still live there, but they prefer to come visit us in the city now.  Thanks, Freespirit, for transporting me back to those joyful moments.  And for reminding me to go back more often, while I still can.

 

 

Why the travel bug bites

My dream job would probably be touring the world (seeing it, experiencing it, cooking, eating and drinking it!) with hubby.  Yes, I definitely think so.  The travel bug has bitten and I will never recover from its fever!

But what is it about travelling; why do I love it so much?  Let me count the ways…

The feeling I get when hubby and I sit in the plane, ready to take off; arms locked, holding hands

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Aeroplane selfie

It’s hard to describe the feeling.  Anticipation.  Excitement.  A bit of nerves.  Like it is just me and him against the world (in a good way; not as in some sci-fi movie where we are the only people left to save the world from an alien invasion).  Together we are standing on the edge of the unknown, of an adventure, not knowing what awaits us, but knowing that together will make it through and that we will be forever changed by the experience.  Goosebump stuff!

 

 

The thrill of visiting a country where English is not the first language

The first country we visited where English was not spoken as a first language was France.  We arrived by train at Gare du Nord station and upon getting out on to the platform we were bombarded with everything in French; announcements, signage, people, the whole lot!  I could not see one bit of English anywhere!

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When we exited the metro station we just had to take this picture right on the Champs Elysees.

We honestly spent at least an hour inside that station trying to buy metro tickets and trying to find our way to the subway section.

(The reward was worth it though; we exited the metro at the Charles de Gaulle Etoile stop and as you come up from the stairs the magnificent Arc de Triomphe is right in front of you!)

A couple of years later we arrived back at Gare du Nord.  French/English signs everywhere.  Like they’ve always been. Clearly we were so in awe back then that we never noticed there was English aplenty!

Experiencing different cultures

There is something special about watching other people going about their normal daily routine and seeing how they just do things completely differently. From what they do, to how they do it.  It has definitely inspired some different behaviors from hubby and I; there is always something that you bring back with you and that will forever remain a part of you.

We were staying in a small town on the Amalfi Coast of Italy.  Hubby and I went for an early morning stroll by the little beach, following paths carved in to the rocks right next to the ocean.  On our way back we were met with the sight of people arguing.  It was three elderly ladies and two gentlemen in the water.  Hands waving in the air, gesturing, talking wildly.  I actually felt a bit afraid.  It seemed that someone could be drowned soon.  This was serious.  That’s until we got to the beach and saw them up close.  They were talking and laughing loudly, hands flying through the air as they told their stories.  No arguing there, they were just Italian!

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La Praia beach, Amalfi Coast, Italy

History (and landmarks)

I love history.  Ever since school.  (I don’t think the fact that my history teacher was kind of handsome had anything to do with it; I’ve managed to maintained my love for historic things years after his looks faded!)

Going to cathedrals, museums, visiting old squares and castles, monasteries – I love it, love it, love it!  It is just such an amazing privilege to see something from hundreds of years ago, that has survived all this time.  And not to see in on tv or in a magazine, but in ‘real life’.  I am forever changed by it.  Afterwards, if I see a place I’ve been to on television, I can’t help but see it in a different light, knowing that my footsteps were also once there.

It’s impossible to pick a highlight.  Each place is absolutely special in its own right.  However, the first cathedral we ever saw was the Notre-Dame de Reims in Reims, France.  Because it was the first, it will always have a special place in my heart.

(Although, I must admit, the Eiffel Tower has some hypnotic power over me.  On each visit to Paris, whenever we pass it on foot, in a bus, on a boat, doesn’t matter how many pictures I have taken, I always have to take just one (or ten) more!)

Fresh produce markets, i.e. food and wine

We really love good food and wine, so it is such a thrill to try new things.  Each time we leave on holiday we go with a list of ‘must-try’ foods and we always come back with newfound  favourite recipes that we will continue to make for the rest of our lives.

 

The fresh produce markets are incredible.  In South Africa we don’t really have something similar and on the scale as we’ve encountered in Europe.  Because we really enjoy cooking we prefer staying in small apartments so that we can have cooking facilities.  This means we get to shop at the fresh produce markets to our hearts content and then bring it back to our little place to cook.

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Our own old blue door with our apartment just above the little pizzeria

 

Last year we visited Avignon.  We stayed in a wonderful little apartment in the center of the old city.  Just down the road (at 18 Place Pie) was Les Halles (the market).  It was the best experience going there, picking up some ingredients and then heading back to our little home away from home.  Normally when I walk in the streets I always wonder what is behind the old doors and this time we could open up our very own old door!

We spent many evenings cooking our hand-picked local produce, enjoying great local wine and looking out from our balcony at life going by in Avignon below. We really felt local and not like tourists at all.

Then… I also love the planning before the time – that is almost a holiday in itself.  And photography.  Hubby and I are keen photographers, so capturing these amazing places on camera is such a joy.  And fridge magnets.  We bring back a fridge magnet from every town we visit.  We ‘reveal’ them back home over some wine, reminiscing about each place as each little magnet gets its place of honour of the fridge.  And then there is…

Let me (further) count the ways another time!

Travel, laugh, encourage, eat

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The iconic Eiffel Tower in Paris

I hope you like travelling, because then you will know why I have fallen in love with it.  And I could tell you about all our favourite places Hubby and I have discovered. 

We haven’t travelled much internationally.  Wait, that’s not true. We have just not travelled as much as I would like to (i.e. permanently!)  That being said, we’ve seen quite a few places that we’ve always dreamt about, like Paris.

If you like a little bit of humour, you will enjoy this little story about our first time there.

Hubby and I eventually got tired of the hotel’s continental breakfast (only so many chocolate croissants one can have) that we really needed something familiar for breakfast.  This specific day we were on our way to Les Invalides  and we decided to look for something in the vicinity.  We settled on a small coffee bar.  It was run by an elderly gentleman.  His English wasn’t great but we managed to agree on an order of scrambled eggs on a slice of toast (not on the menu, I have to admit, but he was very willing to make it especially for us).  We were excited!  Soon enough he was back.  “Voilà!” Hubby and I were presented with a gigantic sized omelette, filled with what seemed to be a solid block of cheddar cheese… each!  What could we do?  “Merci-beaucoup!”

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Les Invalides, Paris, where Napoleon’s tomb lies under the golden dome

If you appreciate a little encouragement every now and then, I can tell you that anything is possible if you put your mind to it.  I’m a bit of a quote person and a favourite is one from Walt Disney.  He said “All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.”  I certainly don’t have the answers but I will gladly share whatever it is that I have figured out for myself along the way.

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Made it all the way to the Arc de Triomphe

And if you enjoy food, I could tell you about wonderful places we’ve discovered, or I could offer you a recipe now and then.  (I’m by no means an accomplished cook, but I enjoy it enough to try it often!  Or is it that I enjoy eating so much…?!)

One of my favourite chef’s is Rick Stein and in his book “Rick Stein’s French Odyssey” he has this recipe for small, shell-shaped French sponge cakes, called madeleines.  I’ve served as a light dessert many times.  It even has mother-in-law’s stamp of approval and that says a lot, because she really is a great cook.  It is very easy and quick to make.

Madeleines

(makes 24)

Ingredients:

  • 3 medium eggs
  • 100g caster sugar
  • Zest of one lemon
  • 100g plain flour, sifted (and a little bit extra for dusting)
  • 1 tsp baking powder
  • 100g butter, melted (and some more for greasing the moulds)
  • 1 tbsp clear honey

NB:  You do need a madeleine baking tray to give them their unique shell shape.  I actually found a silicone version and it works perfectly.

Method:

  1. Brush your madeleine moulds with the melted butter and leave for a few minutes until the butter has slightly set. Dust with flour, and tap out any excess flour. This will ensure that only a small amount of flour sticks to the butter, which helps the madeleines turn out the mould easier and it also gives them a nice golden finish.  (I do this even though I use a silicone mould.)
  2. Preheat your oven to 190°C
  3. Put the eggs and sugar into a bowl and whisk until the batter becomes thick and mousse-like (about 3 minutes with an electric whisk). Whisk in the lemon zest.
  4. Sift the plain flour and baking powder together and gently fold in, followed by the melted butter and honey. Place the batter in the fridge and leave for 15 minutes to thicken slightly.
  5. Fill each of the madeleine moulds three-quarters full with the mixture and bake for 10 minutes until puffed up and golden. Leave to cool and then remove gently from the moulds.

In this recipe, Rick Stein serves it with vanilla ice cream and vanilla poached apricots.  However, in all the time I’ve been making this I have never been able to find fresh apricots, so I always opt for tinned apricots.  Works just as well in my opinion.

When plating, put two madeleines to one side of each of a shallow dessert bowl. Spoon some of the apricots and a little syrup alongside and add a scoop or two of ice cream.

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My madeleines, with Rick Stein’s French Odyssey in the background

Lastly, I hope that you will find enjoyment in travelling, laughing, finding a bit of encouragement and eating with me!

PS:  And I hope you like photography!

Too special to write about

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Everyone has them.  Things that you save for only those ‘special occasions’.  And boy, the occasion needs to be pretty special.  Why else would you feel up to first wiping the dust and cobwebs away?

To illustrate my point, herewith a few of my ‘elite’ little items (with the corresponding special occasion it was last used at):

Glass salad bowl from Spain:  Yet to be used; still waiting for that special occasion to materialise.

Tablecloth bought in Arles, France:  Hubby’s birthday in November; used once.

Dinner set:  OK, this comes out a bit more frequent, but it is packed in its own little cupboard. It makes an appearance on Mothers’ Day, Fathers’ Day, birthdays and Christmas.

Chanel No. 5:  Only when I’ve carefully considered whether the occasion is really worthy. (I’ve had it for 2 years now; quarter used!)

Crystal champagne glasses picked up at a charity shop:  Birthdays.  (Nope, not even new year.  By the time the champagne must be popped, too much champagne has already flowed.  Can’t risk it!)

Moleskin notebook… notebookS…:  I confess!  I have a thing for books/journals in general.  I never want to write in them.  It feels like I will somehow spoil them. But I keep getting them.  So, when last used?  Never!

Today though I realised that I’ve carried this vice for protecting beautiful things for exceptional circumstances to my writing as well.  There are many beautiful things I want to write about, but each time I contemplate putting fingers to keyboard I’m scared that I will spoil it.  How can I write about something special with inadequate words?  How can I describe something that is indescribable?

I’ve been thinking about it and the only way I see calls for me to just go for it!  Caution to the wind!

Here’s to laying the table with the French table cloth and that packed away dinner set, while serving salad in the Spanish bowl, and having champagne out of crystal champagne glasses while wearing a little bit of Chanel No. 5!

(Thank goodness I can still save the Moleskins!)

 

What’s in a name?

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Work!

I won’t lie – I spent quite a bit of time deciding on a name for my blog.  I wanted a name that resonated with me.  That told my story.  That gave a glimpse of who I am and what I am about.  (And from my first post, New Beginnings, clearly it also had to be perfect – to me, in any case!)

There were a few contenders but ultimately, over a glass of wine and testing it with hubby, it became apparent that WorkFoodHome was the one.  Why?

Well, for me, that’s my life in a nutshell really.  I work, I eat and if I’m not at work, I’m at home (mostly).  Sounds terribly depressing, doesn’t it?!  But is it really?  I suppose it could be, but it doesn’t have to be.  It’s the reality in which we live.  (And it’s not just my reality, but a reality shared by most people.)  How I choose to live that reality is up to me though…

So that is what WorkFoodHome is about.  Creating my reality every day.  It includes the people (and dogs!) I love and share my life with, it’s about the things I choose to occupy my mind with, the experiences I have, the places I visit.  It’s about good food and wine, things that I enjoy doing, things that makes me happy. It’s about what matters to me, all while trying to live as positively as I can.

So that’s WorkFoodHome – And A Life In Between.

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Food!

Looking back at my first post it is evident that I suffer from a bit of performance (perfection) anxiety!  Before I took that first step I was so caught up in my own head – what would people think… what do I want people to think – that it kept me from making a start for quite some time (years, if I am honest).  Now, about a month into this journey, I am so happy that I finally did it!

The most rewarding thing so far has been rediscovering my creative side – my love for writing and photography.  (Although hubby would say that my smile when I receive a “like” on a post or a new follower can also be likened to that of a child on Christmas morning!)

I’m not sure when I will feel that I am ‘successful’/not failing at blogging.  For now, I am just reveling in the experience and I am utterly enjoying it.  And I hope that somewhere in my stories someone will find encouragement to make stories of their own, to try something new, maybe take time to reflect or to just take that next step!

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Home!

 

 

New year’s resolutions, continued…

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“When you reach for the stars you may not quite get one, but you won’t come up with a handful of mud either.” – Leo Burnett

This was the first quote I ever quoted.  I was in grade 11 in high school and had to write the foreword for our school yearbook.  It had to include a message to the grade 12 pupils finishing school that year.  For some reason I had this urge to share something really profound with them.  Some knowledge or secret that would forever have an influence on the people they were to become.  I didn’t quite know what (probably the only thing I didn’t know at 17!), but I knew it had to be motivational, inspirational.

So off I went in the search of some quotes.  And when I got to the Leo Burnett quote, it just felt right.  It resonated with me then, even as a teenager.  It affirmed that I could try anything I wanted.  And it gave me solace that in times when I have tried my all and I don’t end up on top, that it would be OK too, because at least it meant that I would be better off than if I did not try at all.  I liked it so much that it also ended up being my words of wisdom to the grade 12’s.

Fast forward back to now, to the pending new year.

After my mini meltdown about the pressures of new year’s resolutions I’ve spent a few days thinking about what it really is that I would like to achieve in 2016.  And out of nowhere the Leo Burnett quote popped into my head.  Sure, I want to lose weight, eat healthy, improve my skin care regime, be a better person, work harder, be a better wife, daughter, sister, friend, save all the lost dogs in the world, learn to cook better, create an amazing blog… but what does it really mean?  What is it that I would really like to achieve?  What will make me happy at the end of 2016?  When will I look back and not be disappointed by all the things I started on Monday and stopped on Wednesday?

“When you reach for the stars you may not quite get one, but you won’t come up with a handful of mud either.”

That’s it, really.  In the end what really makes me feel content is when I feel I am the best me I can possibly be.  And the best me is the me who knows in her heart that she tried and gave her best at whatever it is she thought was worth trying.  And then it’s OK if I don’t quite get there (like the size 8 jeans I’ve been saving in my cupboard  for years now!!) because if I gave it my all and still don’t catch that star, I know that I am more than what I was before.

So here’s to 2016!  To being me, to reach for the stars in everything I do.  To be more (and maybe a little bit less in certain areas)! To live life to the fullest.

Cheers!

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About new year’s resolutions…

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With the new year just around I corner, I really can’t believe (wait for the cliché…) how fast this year has gone.

This, of course, signals the start of the anxiety and pressure of the new year’s resolution list. You have hardly come up with them, given yourself a few “Mondays” throughout the year to get started on them, and all of a sudden January stares you in the face again! Now, at the end of the year, not only do you have the dubious pleasure of ticking off all those you got to (the majority, mostly… sort of….), but you also get to experience the joy when you move those you didn’t quite get to, to the NEW new year’s list… so that you can combine it with the list of brand new resolutions that you came up with that are REALLY realistic for you to achieve this time around.

I feel a sweat coming already. The pressure!!  But there is still time before you have to turn that new leaf …

Because technically you can’t start with your new year’s resolutions on the 1st of January (well, not with the losing weight, exercising and eating healthy ones in any case. Oh, and the no drinking one.) Because the 1st is still a public holiday, you know. You can probably start on the 2nd, but it would be better if the 2nd happens to be a Monday as well. Because all new things that a person needs to start with, works better on a Monday.

Does that mean that a Monday trumps the start of the new year? It’s a tough one. If the 2nd of January is on a Monday, then they are completely equal. You’ve got to take that new leaf and run like the wind. However, if the 2nd is not on a Monday, the first Monday of the new year will suffice, except if the first Monday happens to be the 1st. (And I’ve already explained why the 1st is just not even an option at all.)

Oh, the demands of life.

I think I need to consider my new year’s resolutions carefully. No better way to do this then to have a glass (or few) of wine. And a chocolate. And some chips. And those salt biscuits (the full pack that is still in the cupboard).  With some cheese.

Because of course you have to clear out the cupboards now in order to start afresh in 2016!

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Food for thought

Love to hate

Between hubby and me we have this running joke about me hating slush puppies. It started on our honeymoon, when he bought a slush puppy to drink and I said “ugh, I don’t drink slush puppies – I hate that stuff”. As it turned out I practically finished the whole thing without offering him a single sip. To this day, I still hate slush puppies. So much so, that when we go to the movies, it is all that I ever order to drink!

This weekend I realised that I had one other such hate (although I have not confessed it to anyone yet). I hate corn. Whenever someone mentions that they enjoy it, I’ll typically respond with a “I don’t really like it”. Yet, every time someone makes corn, it inexplicably finds its way to my plate, especially when it is made on the braai. Or lovely little savoury corn cakes. I hate those too. And the sweetcorn cakes at my favourite Thai restaurant, with a sweet plum dip. I always happen to order some.

This past weekend my love/hate affair was taken to the next level. It is summer and I’m so tired of the same old, same old salads. So given the history of my relationship with corn, it naturally makes a lot of sense that it would be corn that would put me out of my bored misery!

Hubby and I adapted this really simple recipe from Jamey Oliver. It has fresh flavours and vibrant colours and it is a great alternative to the normal bowl of leaves. We served it with spicy chicken, but I think lamb chops with a Moroccan spice will go great with it as well. Our guests really enjoyed it. Me? I don’t like corn at all!

Corn Salad 

(serves 4)

Ingredients:

  • 3 corn on the cob
  • 3 spring onions
  • 15 rosa tomatoes
  • Large handful of coriander
  • Juice of half a lemon
  • Pinch of salt
  • Olive oil

Method:

  1. Light your fire or turn on your griddle pan to warm up
  2. Put your corn in a large pot and just cover the corn with water. Boil for 30 minutes
  3. Drain the water. Drizzle some olive oil over the corn and sprinkle with salt
  4. Place the corn on the braai/griddle pan to char slightly. Turn it regularly to ensure an even char.
  5. Remove from the braai/griddle pan and leave to cool
  6. Chop the spring onions, tomatoes and coriander and place in a bowl
  7. Take the corn and slice off the kernels (holding the corn upright and cutting top to bottom)
  8. Add the corn to the chopped spring onions, tomatoes and coriander
  9. Add a good pinch of salt
  10. Add the juice of half a lemon
  11. Mix well and serve
Corn Salad
Corn Salad

Talking about Christmas… 

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De Witte Pelikaan, Bruges, Belgium

In 2014 we had the absolute privilege of visiting a small city in Belgium, called Bruges. It was by luck, actually, as I’d never heard of it before someone mentioned it to me while we were still busy planning our holiday.  We did a bit of research (what did people do before Google?!)and it quickly became a no-brainer that we had to go it and see as our original itinerary had us quite close.

Bruges is really, really special.  Nothing in the guidebook prepared me for it.  I was completely overwhelmed by the beauty of the place.  You find yourself walking past beautifully restored windmills on green hills on the outskirts of town, then down into the city’s historic centre (a UNESCO World Heritage site) with its picture perfect cobbled streets, over stone bridges that cross canals, and medieval towers rising out above the buildings. I got quite emotional when we ended up in Burg Square – we were wandering around and came around a corner and unexpectedly I was faced with one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen.   Just the sheer beauty of the place combined with a deep sense of gratitude that hubby and I have been so blessed to have the opportunity to experience these wonderful things in our lives really touched me in that moment.

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Stadshuis and Oude Civiele Griffie in The Burg, Bruges

It was while I was doing research on what to see and do in Bruges that I found a reference to a Christmas shop called De Witte Pelikaan.  Me, being a bit of a Christmas nut, knew immediately that I absolutely had to go and find it. (It is located at 23 Vlamingstraat and their website is http://www.dewittepelikaan.be)

Although we were there in May, the shop is open the whole year and it really did not disappoint.  It was spectacular!  The shop’s first floor has baubles and bows, snow-globes, wreaths, wrapping paper and the normal (but extraordinarily looking “normal”) type of Christmassy things.  (Also the cutest paper mache fish; it was actually their store window display at the time.)  However, if you go down the stairs to the bottom floor you enter a magical world!  It is almost cave-like, with arches and alcoves and gigantic Christmas trees everywhere.  The ‘cave’ is an off-white colour, with soft lighting;  fairy lights twinkling and sparkly crystal chandeliers hanging from the roof.  For me, never having experienced a white Christmas, it gave me a glimpse of how special it must be!

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Each corner held a little scene…  Beautifully crafted glass baubles, unlike anything I’ve seen before.  Figurines that looked life-like.  A wooden house with Santa inside; the windows glowing red with warm and inviting light and Santa looking as if he was going to whisper “Ho-Ho-Ho” to me at any moment!  Stuffed toys so real that you expect the squirrels to run up a tree as you approach or the ducks to fly away as you got closer.  Owls sitting quietly in a snow covered cove, looking at me through icicles.  I was enchanted by this little piece of Christmas heaven.

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The shop window

The store is not huge, but we spent over an hour there, captivated by its charm.  (I am also known to be a bit indecisive at times, so just imagine how long it took me to pick something to bring home with us!)

So in the spirit of Christmas, some pictures of Burg Square and De Witte Pelikaan (including three little gems we get to hang on our tree each year).

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Our little reminder of Bruges
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The most unique bauble we have on our tree
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I love sparkle!

It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

I love December and I love Christmas time.  Love it, love it, love it!  I suppose there is not one thing in particular that stands out; it’s the combination of everything.

I love the long warm days with light in the sky until late.  Almost every night I’ll give a “look, it’s eight thirty and there is still blue in the sky!” to anyone that’s listening.  (An added bonus is that I also feel soooo much less guilt over how late we eat supper!  “Late” doesn’t happen when there is still light in the sky!)

And cherries!  I love shiny, fresh, red cherries.  There is something about the way the light reflects off them that just makes me really happy.  Although, if I can have a silly Christmas wish it would be to have pip free cherries..  Really now, that such a delicious mouthful can be spoilt like that!

Also, the beginning of December in the Cape is usually the time that summer properly arrives and for me, after the winter in which  you were all covered up from head to toe, I love feeling  my long hair on my back and my arms  – that feeling just screams summer to me!  (I’ve realised that this can also be read to indicate that I have long back and arm hair… Nooo, I just mean I have long hair on my head!)

And I love glitter! And Christmas carols! I love putting up our Christmas tree, while listening to my all-time favourite Christmas MegaMix CD and getting all sparkly while putting up our decorations.  And Christmas cookies!  I love baking Christmas cookies.  And decorating them. And eating them while I decorate them.  And then being so stuffed that I can’t face one more biscuit after the baking and decorating is done!

And the spirit of Christmas – it is a time of love and spending time with those dearest to you. My earliest Christmas memories is having Christmas at my granny’s house.  I think we were about 13 nieces and nephews together, with all the aunts and uncles.  My granny had a white Christmas tree.  To this day probably the most beautiful tree I have ever seen.  And she was a magnificent cook.  The Christmas table was always bursting at the seams.  I miss her…

But it brings me to Christmas lunch.  You spend weeks planning for it.  Looking at Jamie Oliver’s best ever Christmas recipes while treading carefully between mother-in-law’s even more better than Jamie’s trifle that she has been making every year since I met her vs your own yearning for trying some death by chocolate thing you once saw Nigella make.  Planning the table decorations…  (I wonder where my gravy boat is…?  We only use it once a year!)

And then all of a sudden the moment arrives.  You start by shopping for ingredients.  There is a gauntlet that stands between you and your perfect lunch with normally well behaved people in Woolies elbowing you out the way to get to the last limp looking lettuce! (Last year we had a good technique – hubby would stand in the background with a trolly and I would dart in like swift footed ninja – quickly grabbing what we needed!)  And then the cooking starts in earnest and you spend two days in front of the stove, getting so hot and bothered that your specially GHD’d Christmas hair goes flat and frizzy and you arrive at the table all red in the face and not looking nearly as glamorous as Nigella did when she was done with her feast!

To sit down and eat within 30 minutes.  That always amazes me.  How you can prepare so long for a moment that passes so quick!  (Apart from the leftovers.  Those damn things just never seem to finish!)  So that you can just go and lie down (and I praise the Lord for my dishwasher!)  So you can get up and have some trifle.

But I love it!  It’s such a feel good buzz and just thinking about it makes me so happy that I am smiling from ear to ear.

So this Christmas we are having the in-laws over.  The trifle conundrum?  Husband and I have come up with the best plan.  Mother-in-law is doing the spread for Christmas eve and hubby and I will produce a wonderful Christmas lunch (i.e. read no trifle implied!).

So now I’m looking forward to practising new recipes in the weeks to come so that on the day it will just be perfect.  (Let’s face it, any excuse to eat!)

Disclaimer:  No mother-in-law’s were damaged with the writing of this piece.  I love my mother-in-law dearly.  

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