Brussels was looking nice yesterday. I felt like its patronising husband, or overbearing mother, walking around. "See? See how nice you can look when you make an effort?"
I had not spotted this fish before, though there is lots of fish grafitti generally.
Léopold and his ridiculous rectangular beard were admiring the late afternoon sun.
Cat in a box on the rue Blaes, where I was discovering the exceptionally well-hidden Institut Confucius, for obscure reasons that are continuing to erode my sanity.
Le Vieux St Martin, Brussels's best café terrace, empty because it was in the shade. The opposite side of the Sablon was packed, but I still love the Vieux St Martin best, because it is perfect and you get a large palmier biscuit with your coffee and an opportunity to admire some of the most accomplished tweed wearers in the whole kingdom.
Oscar later assumed his favourite male centrefold pose in the park, crushing the municipal daffodils. He was exhausted by performing, for the first time this year, his Circuit of Shame. It goes like this:
1. Arrive in park. Bound up to gaggle of hair tossing teenage girls with your filthy ball and scatter them, screaming.
2. Run at full pelt through the wooded area, terrifying the lurking gangs of dope smokers.
3. Find a heavy petting couple and sniff insistently around them, refusing to leave.
4. Get over-excited around some small children and bounce about like a terrifying hound-marsupilami hybrid. Make one or more small children cry.
5. Shit at length, in full public view, surrounded by infants, right in the middle of the thoughtfully provided spring flowers.
6. Find something unpleasant to roll in - mud, fox shit, or alternatively jump in the pond, then shake yourself all over the hair-tossing teenage girls, making them scream again.
7. Pass out. Last year he performed the Circuit of Shame so enthusiastically on a hot day that he actually passed out and I had to carry him home.
I have nothing else for you today, I am accidentally hungover (the wine just FELL down my throat) and useless. I could say there'll be something better tomorrow, but it would be a lie. Presumably you are all keeping up with Antonia's joyous daily lent blogging? That, and constant checking on owlcam, are the only things keeping me going. There's something indescribably thrilling about the odd moments that maman owl looks towards the camera and you see her vast, owl eye that keeps me watching long swathes of motionless feather. She just did it! Just now!
What has kept you going this week, if anything? Do share it with the group..