2026/28 - July Jubilations

 Week-long tropical heat has made some of my plants wilt, and others throw a party!

The bumblebees were having a party of their own on this gate crasher from my neighbour's plot. It takes the heat in its stride.

When the flowers are spent, it decks itself in lovely blood red berries, which then darken to deep purple.

There were at least 15 bees on it!
So it can stay.

Another neighbour has this Artichoke in his cold frame. This does not mind heat either.

Oh, and I finally mowed my grass! It certainly looks a lot better now! Did I tell you I bought an old fashioned hand mower? Which came in a flat pack as if it was a bookcase from IKEA? And which I put together myself, only to find out at the very last two nuts and bolts that the bloody pipe was bent? So those nuts and bolts were too short?

I was so frustrated that I did not have the strength to bend it into shape, that I bolted the bloody thing together with tie wraps. And it works perfectly fine. Only looks stupid.

A bit like my new frogless frog pond, in fact.

But hey, Waterlily is thriving and blooming, so who is complaining?

Don't let those clouds fool you! It was 29,5°C when I took that photo.

Proof!

I am looking into marginal pond plants to camouflage that ugly pondliner.

The apples are okay too.

The Monarda looking its best. It is an insect puller as well.

And my Gaura has suddenly exploded. I have exactly the same one on my balcony, where it is unhappy, so in Autumn it will move to Hunky Dory. No room for unhappy plants on my balcony!

The Crocosmia 'Emily McKenzie' is giving my hot bed some sizzle. After a very slow start, three years ago, it has come into its stride now.

So my hot bed is looking marginally hotter this year, hurray! In here is another Gaura, the White Whirling Butterfly. And a bright orange Hemerocallis. 

Another plant which has decided to show me it was worth buying, at last, is this Digitalis ferruginea 'Gigantea'. It is a perennial, was next to nothing for three years and whoops! All of a sudden this year it is as tall as me. I think it is lovely, such an unusual colour.

I wouldn't mind some more to dot around, so I'll keep my eye open.

The bog standard Digitalis, the biannual ones, have bloomed and are already setting seed. I let them do their thing, and they walk all over the garden, although they do seem to have a preference for not-so-handy spots. Like in the doorway of my greenhouse.

The Digitalis being my height only shows what monsters the Cardoons have grown into this year! I mean...wow! No taking cosy photos of dozing Bumble bees in the flowers this time...they are impossible to reach.

One of my favourites: the drumstick Alliums. They are such fun!

I'll say goodnight, now.

There's a new blog on my website for your perusal (translator button provided);  it is a teaser for my 3rd part of the Brielle trilogy (called Moss).

You'll find it at Renée Grashoff Schrijft

Have a good week, wherever you are.

Renée Grashoff 

2026/27 - After the thunderstorm

 In this country, it either swelters or freezes, it seems. After two much too cold June weeks, we fell into a heatwave overnight, which ended after two days with a massive thunderstorm, but gathered steam within a day and then turned into the most sweltering week in the history of our country! In my tiny flat the night time temperature reached 29,5°C, so I spent three days in the dark, with everything closed, to try and keep out the 38° heat.

By 9 p.m. it was 31°C still, and the sky turned black. I made sure my largest plants were safe, and waited for what was to come with my dog Puck. Puck is terrified of thunderstorms.

Now this I had never seen before: a band of cloud moving from left to right, but another band moving straight up. Anyway, at 21.30 the first lightning appeared, and my old rescued doggie turned into a shivering, teeth shattering, sorry wreck.

She did not sleep. So I did not sleep either, since she paced the floor endlessly. At 5.30 a.m. we went out, to enjoy the peace and quiet, and it was as if that storm had never been.

I cycled to Hunky Dory at 06.30, to see if my greenhouse was okay, and if my plants were still upright.

And to my relief all was well. Absolutely sopping wet, but well.

My Hydrangeas are always happy with a good soak.

The first Hemerocallis in flower. At the top of this page is the other one.

The Hollyhocks, which self seed all over the place.

My Malaysian friend Li Ping with some Hollyhocks elsewhere in Brielle.

The Houttuynia, which I had planted in the raised bed, but who escaped and now is doing very well all around it.

The Fennel reaching for the stars. After I planted one three years ago, it has self-seeded all over the garden. I pull out the ones who are in awkward positions (right on the path, for example), but leave quite a few, as I adore the scent and save the seeds for cooking.

The Monarda is enjoying itself in the heat.

My attempt to keep out that scorching sun. It did not work!

Puck was not impressed.

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And please tell your friends about this blog when you've enjoyed it.

Have a good week, wherever you are!

Renée Grashoff 

2026/26 - My Frustrating Frog Pond

 A garden should have water, and especially a garden presenting itself as a naturalistic one, allotment or not. So one of the first things I did when I took over a potato field 4 years ago was to dig a frog pond.

The very first beginning

   The digging was hard, as I had broken my upper arm not long before, and I found lots of forgotten rotten potatoes.

   But I adore a good pond, so I dug on, and kept my vision as a motivator: a tranquil pond with a waterlily, dragonflies and happy frogs.

   I put in a liner, filled the pond from my water butt, bought a waterlily and some aerators, and waited for the frogs to arrive.

   Three years, according to Charlie Dimmock, Queen of Water Features, before a pond is really established.

It took a couple of months, full of anticipation, would the frogs arrive? Nope, but a ferocious SW gale did, and blew the greenhouse of my neighbour to smithereens, depositing her shards of glass all over my garden and into my pond. It sprung a leak. From then on, my dream of a lovely, natural frog pond turned into endlessly putting enough water in it for my waterlily to survive.

The effort paid off, not in frogs, who never deemed the pond worthy, but in toads and salamanders. So I kept it up, the filling it up. Until last year, when the summer was so hot, that I gave up. My 1000 l. water butt was empty, and I needed the other butt to water my plants. I decided to let nature take over...no more pond.

But. But. But. Over the months I really started to miss that icky bit of water to stare into! So I thought right. I'll give it one more go!

By the end of April it was no more than an overgrown, grassy, weedy dip in the soil! It took hours and hours to get that grass out.

Hours! 

Empty! And...oh, my giddy aunt! After a rainstorm, there was water. Sure, it went down again, but to me this was a sign of hope. I immediately went and told Waterlily, who was hanging on for her dear life in a temporary bucket.

As I have a never used dog pool (Puck took one look at it and told me I could  go sit in it myself, which I have done a couple of times), I decided to put that in the middle, so that Waterlily has a proper 50 cm water depth, without (hopefully!) leaks.

And here it is. I plan to get some marginal plants for camouflage, so that it looks a little less...hm...weird?

But look at Waterlily! Utterly happy again, and so am I.

My neighbouring 'pond' was very tranquil this morning, after a massive thunderstorm in the night. Puck stood beside me, trembling, if she wasn't pacing the room for hours, trembling. Thunderstorms scare her. So this morning, at 5.30, I gave her the opportunity to choose her own walkies, to cheer her up, and she wanted to go to the ferry to look at the waterfowl.

And yes I know she's a dog, and I humanise her, but she's been my faithful companion since Feb.2019 and now she's really getting old...So I indulge her. Even when she's prevented me from sleeping for practically three quarters of the night. I don't know her age, she could be as old as twelve. She'll be my last rescued dog, as I am getting old too.

Right. Look up my website at Renée Grashoff Schrijft when you feel like it, spread the word about this blog to dog lovers and plant geeks, and have a lovely week, wherever you are.

Renée Grashoff 

2026/25Extra - Gardens of historical Brielle

 A feature of the gardens of my historical hometown is that most gardens are either walled gardens, or that they are completely enclosed by houses. Hence you don't get to see a lot of them, unless you are invited in. And on Sunday June 14th, we were.

This walled garden at the Raas is one of the oldest surviving in Brielle. The houses date from the early 17th century. The large Catharijne church dates from the 15th century (1417) but was never finished because they ran out of money in 1482. One of the naves and the spire were never built. It was supposed to become the largest church of the country...don't say our citizens weren't ambitious!

As a rose lover, I particularly like that rose scrambling up the tree in the same garden.

There are some modern houses within the ramparts, and this garden is situated in Van Sleenstraat, overlooking the ramparts. A potter/painter couple have created a charming garden here.

This is another corner of the same garden. Gorgeous rose!

Not every garden was to my liking (plastic lawn? No thanks!); but this lovely rose caught my eye in an otherwise utterly uninspiring garden.

Being hemmed in by houses make a lot of the gardens shadow gardens. This one had Feverfew in one of the only sunny spots.

Another corner of the same shadow garden.

The sunny corner of yet another shady garden; this one was surrounded by wooden fencing.

This looks like a jungle, but there were narrow paths from the house.

This is in the same garden, but looking towards the other side.

A good example of the many centuries old walls surrounding the gardens.

Some of the gardens were amazingly large, for a town garden. When you walk the narrow 15th century streets of Brielle, you have no idea that behind the houses are large gardens. And it is wonderful to see that those gardens are loved, and maintained as a garden, whilst there is a huge lack of parking space in Brielle. Sure, some get tarmaced, but many fortunately are not.

Another thing that struck my eye, is that many of the 10 gardens I had the time to visit had the same plants in them. That tells me that those plants are trusted to do well in our soil. The tendency to plant exotics has passed by Brielle so far, all those plants I saw were perhaps not proper natives (roses, Acanthus et such do come from warmer parts of Europe), but they are known to do well here. Especially when they are protected from that ever blowing sea wind over here. But not a palm tree, or citrus tree or huge aloe in sight.

I hope you've enjoyed a little peek at the gardens. Do share my blog address if you have.

Have a good week, wherever you are.

Renée Grashoff