This is it! The last week of 2018 has arrived, and with it, the last painting and blog post for the year. We stand now on the threshold of the portal which opens up to 2019.

This year, December 21 is a very special day! Annually, this day marks the winter solstice, the first day of winter in the Northern Hemisphere. This means it’s not only the shortest day of the year, but from this day forward daylight hours slowly increase while the nights get shorter, signalling the start of a steady crawl toward summer. This year the winter solstice also coincides with a full moon, known as the Cold Moon. The next time a full moon lines up with the winter solstice will be 2094. And, if that’s not enough, there’s also a meteor shower in our skies tonight.

We stayed in a lovely little Bed and Breakfast while visiting Bruges, Belgium. (See my last post, Week 49: Beautiful Bruges Portals.) The owner of the B&B made one of the best suggestions of the trip when he told us about a day trip we could take, by bike, from Bruges to Damme. Unlike the twists and turns of the cobbled lanes that caused us to become lost so many times in Bruges, the path to Damme is arrow straight. He reassured us, when he saw our skeptical faces upon hearing it is a 6 kilometre trek outside of Bruges, that it’d be an easy ride and it’s impossible to get lost on the way.

I hope I don’t sound too simplistic in revealing my top three reasons for visiting Bruges. I’ve always wanted to taste, while IN Belgium, authentic Belgian waffles, chocolate, and beer – though not necessarily in that order. I quickly learned that I had to add yet another taste-sensation to my list; fries. Did you know that the French did NOT invent fries? They were invented here, in Belgium! And that, instead of ketchup, the favoured dip for these delicious morsels of potato is mayonnaise? Yum! Yep, they’re quite obsessed with all things potato here, even dedicating an entire museum to the history and making of potato fries. (Check it out – it’s called the Frietmuseum)

After checking into our hotel in Arromanches-les-Bains, the sounds of the waves lured us down to the beach. It was nearing dusk, quite windy, and the tide was coming in, but there were a few stragglers left on the rapidly narrowing beach. Some walked their dogs, others played in shallow puddles of water or jogged up the stairs of the sea wall. A few people took advantage of the wind by flying kites or hang-gliding silently over our heads. We sat on the sea wall and watched the sun set. There was a beautifully peaceful and serene vibe.

We were so very fortunate to have my nephew, Matthew McHugh, be our tour guide on our travels through Normandy. He’d previously lived at Courselles-sur-Mer while working as a tour guide at the Juno Beach Centre. A few days prior to reaching Juno Beach, a heavy rain storm had caused flooding of the tunnels and bunkers that are part of the exhibit at the Centre.

When faced with morbid situations, many people deflect their feelings of discomfort in various ways, including humour. The Paris Catacombs could easily be considered morbid when you know the facts about how it came to be the resting place for so many people.