Church of St. Antonius Abbot Brink 10

Located in the center of the village square, in the village of St. Antonius, Noord Brabant, this beautiful church featuring a medieval tower is it’s oldest building.

The monumental part of the church and the tower date back to 1477. The tower has an octagonal spire and is an example of Medieval village Gothic architecture.

This beautiful, medieval, wooden cross pulls our eyes past the art depicted of the stained glass windows.

The cross dates back to around 1480 and is the work of the famous Late Medieval sculptor Master Arnt.

The beautiful stained glass windows of the church were designed by the artistic priest-poet Jonas van Delft who served as pastor of St. Antonius from 1927 to 1957. They were completed before World War 2, and stored for safe keeping during that time.

The oak pulpit from which many sermons have been preached

This oak pulpit, dating back to 1694, features the writers of the Holy Gospels. Their symbols are depicted as: Matthew with the angel; Mark with the lion; Luke with the ox; and John with the eagle.

The wooden statue of St. Antonius is from 1850. The artist is J.F. Beuijssen from Boxmeer.

The Baptismal Font where my mother was baptized.

Where my parents knelt on their wedding day.

The Madonna, holding baby Jesus in her arms, are adorned with silver crowns. The artist was the renowned Boxmeer silversmith Rabanus Raad. Dated 1749.

White crosses, secured against the side of the church, in the graveyard of the St. Antonius Abbot.

The four white crosses are for four British soldiers who died in St. Antonius during the liberation of the Netherlands at the end of World War 2. The unit that they were a part of is the same unit that our son-in-laws father served in.

The wear and tear on this beautiful piece depicting Jesus’ journey into Jerusalem does not at all interfer with the message being conveyed.

Touring this amazing square with it’s beautiful church was an emotional and moving time for me.

Sharing this time with my cousin Toos and her family, as they toured myself and my family through the village where our family has it’s roots was, I think, my favourite day in the Netherlands.

Keukenhof Gardens

In the Netherlands, not to far from Amsterdam, lays the most beautiful spring garden in the world.

Keukenhof is home to more than 7 million flowering tulips, daffodils, and other bulb flowers.

Keukenhof, the worlds largest flower garden offers a unique scent and colour experience and an endless explosion of colour.

A beautiful garden located in a country which in itself is a beautiful garden

I love the Netherlands!

Following the Footsteps of Vincent Van Gogh

Traveling the narrow streets of Noord Brabant, through the towns of St. Antonius, Oploo, Lierop and Nuenen, we can feel the brushstrokes of Vincent van Gogh’s paintbrush as he captures and transposes the images of the countryside onto his canvases.

Windmill in the tulip fields of Keukenhof

Tulepvelden, from the van Gogh museum in Amsterdam.

Waterwheel in the van Gogh museum in Nuenen

van Gogh’s The Reaper, in the van Gogh museum in Amsterdam.

A print of The Reaper, hanging on my living room wall.

The Potato Eaters from the van Gogh museum in Amsterdam

Tracing the steps of one of the great master, walking the same streets, the same roads, prehaps under some of the same trees felt so unreal, like anything and everything is possible.

It was an honor and a privilege.

Let Me Be Frank

Frank’s tunes playing on the air.

His 78s hanging on the walls.

The proprietors are probably humming along.

Hotdogs, with names like

The Enforcer

The Goodfella

The High Roller

With toppings of roasted red peppers, caramelized onions, sauerkraut, crumbled bacon, arugula, etc, etc, etc.

Let the rest of your week be – salt free.

Such a fun little spot for a comfort meal of your favourite hotdog.

Snowman Melting

Snowman melting.
Sunbeams pelting.
Ice welding.
Winds belting.
Nothing helping.

The sun was bright.
The mood was light  
The snow was white.
Try as he might.
He put up a good fight.
Well into the night.

When the world was frozen,
this snowman was chosen.
He was built with emotion.
And cared for with devotion.

Windswept Wednesday

On a wistful Wednesday weekday,
whilst wandering through the woods
we came upon windswept weeds and willows
weeping, whispering in the wind.

Wandering wishy-washy
as the wind wildly whispers,
waves of white wavering
as the walloping,westerly winds blow.

And a whimsical, whiskered wabbit

waited, wobbling, and wisely watched

the wristwatch, writing, well-versed,

wishing the whole wide world well.

Whimsically, whispering words of wisdom

as the westerly winds fell.

Wine coloured glasses

Slices white bread.

The Yellow House

The Yellow House

Have you ever wondered 
who lived in this house?
Once upon a time,
a long time ago.

When the paint was fresh,
and the structure sound.

Before the walls
of faded yellow,
had all but fallen down.

Who were they?
What would they say
if they stopped by
to see it today.

About those who
deserted their home so fine.
Was it keeping up with the Jones'
that ruled their minds?

Oh fallen house
the stories you could tell,
Squeak the mice
who live there still,
amongst the rafts, and
traveling along the broken window sill.

Behind the banks of fallen snow,

Behind the trees that in front now grow.

Remains of the yellow house

From which this poem flows.

Frozen Beaches

Words of William Shakespeare 

Blow, blow,thou winter wind,
Thou are not so unkind
As man's ingraditude:
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho: unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning,most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh-ho, the holly!
This life most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remembered not,
Heigh-ho: sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly

Art Gallery of Ontario

A very small selection from the 90000 works on display at the Art Gallery of Ontario.

I think, my very favourite artist, perhaps.

Definitely one of Canada’s greatest. I feel a personal connection to the artist after taking watercolor classes in her childhood home.

A part of the Group of Seven works of art.

A Canadian artist in front of a wall of art from our Group of Seven.

Hi, how are you? Fine, how are you? Said a chamomile ginger tea to a vanilla earl grey latte. What a perfect ending to a wonderful day!

Winter Beauty

Like needles of lace
a cone of snowflakes
gathers,light as air.
A breath of wind, and the flakes
scatter 
into nowhere.

On top of a green needle
a tiny snowflake falls.
It clings tightly
to it's resinous hull.

More flakes gather
tatting like lace,
upon the pine trees
a fascicle resting place.

A gigantic white oak 
my favourite tree,
can hold more life
than either you or me.

Looming high in the sky,
it's limbs, grey and old,
carry a strength 
for the world to behold.

Somewhere, under the snow
a tiny cedar bench
continues to glow.