Labels

dinsdag 29 juni 2021

12 - Dutch or English? Both, why not! Gardening is universal.

This blog started out in English, to correspond with my Instagram account where I have mostly international contacts. But to my amazement I have more countrymen reading it so far. And they told me they sometimes struggle with the English. So, easy quick solution: I'll use both languages.

And I have such good news! This morning I finally received an email that my long wait is over. There is an allotment waiting for me. At last! And just in time for my summer holidays, so that's super.
Now, things are not finalised, I still have to have The Talk with the board, but I am a die-hard optimist so it will all work out, I'm sure.

New garden coming up!

So not only will I keep you up to date with my balcony gardening, but you can follow the ups and downs of my allotment garden as well. Such fun!

 Omdat ik te horen kreeg dat mijn Nederlandse lezers soms wat moeite hebben met het Engels, lever ik gewoon een vertaling. Geen probleem!

En ik heb zulk goed nieuws! Vanochtend ontving ik een email dat het lange wachten voorbij is. Er is een volkstuin voor me beschikbaar. Eindelijk! En precies op tijd om mijn zomervakantie te vullen, dus dat is super.
Het is allemaal nog niet in kannen en kruiken, ik moet nog een 'intake' met de voorzitter van de toelatingscommissie (in goed Nederlands, hahaha), maar onverbeterbare optimist die ik ben weet ik zƩker dat het goed komt.



Een nieuwe tuin komt er aan!

Dus ik blijf jullie niet alleen op de hoogte houden van mijn balkontuin, maar nu ook van alles rondom mijn nieuwe echte tuin. Dat wordt leuk!

Je kunt via Instagram nog veel meer lezen/you can read more about my garden @songsmith2962 



dinsdag 22 juni 2021

11 - Tuinieren op de vierkante meter (Dutch version)


 Toen ik in 2018  verhuisde, was  "tuin" een belangrijk criterium, net zoals voor veel mensen.

Waar de meeste mensen tevens zoeken naar een grote keuken of badkamer, was voor mij een stukje grond, binnenplaats of tenminste een groot balkon een absolute dealmaker. Diep in mij huist een wezen dat doodongelukkig wordt als het niet dagelijks met de handen door het groen kan gaan. Zal het geĆ«rfde melkboerenhondenhaar zijn, daar valt weinig door te woelen. Uiteindelijk bleken grond en binnenplaats niet haalbaar, dus moest het een balkon worden. 
In mijn historische stadje kom je dan in de verste buitenwijk terecht. Voordeel is het vele stadsgroen,  nadeel is dat de meeste mensen die hier zijn gaan wonen absoluut niet geinteresseerd zijn in tuinieren. 
Een goed voorbeeld is de straat die loodrecht op de mijne ligt. Meer dan tien dure huizen met een dak tot de nok vol zonnepanelen en allerhande duurzaamheidssnufjes en een kleine tuin die ik vervolgens volgeplempt zag worden met trendy grijze plavuizen en overkapte lounges voor de barbecue. Soms een even trendy olijfboom of palm erin, meestal niet eens. De door de projectontwikkelaar meegeleverde erfscheidingen met klimop werden er resoluut uitgerukt en vervangen door trendy schuttingen.

 Trendy

Je denkt nu zeker dat ik trendy een vies woord vind,  nee hoor,  echt niet. Wildebloemenweiden zijn ook trendy, en daar ben ik dol op!
Maar wat ik dus maar niet begrijp is hoe iemand kan kiezen voor een duurzaam energiebesparend huis en dan totaal geen idee kan hebben dat die 6 vierkante meter grond een paradijsje kan zijn voor vogels en insekten, waarin het ook voor mensen veel beter toeven is dan in die zongeblakerde plavuizenwoestijn die zij er van gemaakt hebben. De kopers wisten niet hoe snel ze zonnewering moesten aanleggen, want het wordt daar algauw meer dan dertig graden. Gelukkig heeft het stel in het ene hoekhuis wƩl veel tijd en energie (en geld!) gestoken in een beeldschone tuin, met romantisch zelfgebouwd zonnedakje. Het kan dus echt wel.

Balkontuin

Zelf tuinier ik op 3x4m, noodgedwongen in  bakken, maar eigenlijk zou ik het liefst de steigerplanken eruit rukken, en aarde storten op het beton. Uiteraard mag dat niet en eerlijk gezegd wordt er al argwanend naar mijn vele bakken geloerd. Echt, ik pas me aan en houd me aan de regels. Dus geen plantenrekken tegen de muren. Geen regenton. Geen minivijver. Geen kippen. Ik heb wel een hond, die ik het blaffen tegen de vele andere honden die beneden langslopen probeer af te leren uit consideratie met de buren. En nu iedereen de gevel heeft behangen met oranje vlaggetjes (plastic, kreun) heb ik aan de ene kant oranje goudsbloemen en aan de andere kant oranje oostindische kers geplant. Doe ik toch nog een beetje mee. 
Maar ik droom van groene tuinen in die straat. En dat kan supertrendy. Met egeldoorgangen in de schuttingen en groene schuurdaken met sedum en wuivende grassen en Ć©Ć©n schaduwboom en een klaterend minivijvertje. Zal je zien dat die temperatuur vanzelf daalt daar en heb je toch nog plek voor je loungeset en barbecue.
Je kunt meer lezen over mijn balkontuin op Instagram @songsmith2962 .

woensdag 16 juni 2021

10 - balcony revamp


Too many small pots!
Before

 When Puck had manouvered herself head-first between the hosta and viburnum and couldn't turn herself around to get out, instead had to back up like a great lumbering truck, I decided some changes had to be made.

Revamping the balcony.

When I did a quick count, there were 50 pots. Fifty! On 3x4m. Some of the large plants would have to go, I regretfully needed to find a home for my silver leaved lemony Buddleia and Fatsia japonica, as they were simply too large after 4 years. And the others, well, to create walking space I would clump them all into groups. Easy peasy. Garden Rescue has nothing on me. (I could just see them: 5 burly hunks lugging up new decking, and Charley, David and Harry joking around and generally looking gorgeous)

After
 So I did some research and compared prices, and man does it make a difference if you order directly from the manufacturer. I saved myself €80 there. Online buying is not my thing, being the horse-and-cart type, but in this case...hurray!
 I bought 3 large Elho planters (they recycle plastics, so have my seal of approval) 80x33x39cm and as soon as they arrived started work.
Now, you try emptying 42 pots in a space where you can not walk, or move really. So this took some planning: first move everything towards the doors, then clean the railing windows (two birds, etc), then take a new planter, and group the plants according to soil preference and height. And repeat. Puck 'helped' by constantly getting in the way.

It took me 8 hours. Honestly. Now I know why GR shows up with a small army. Getting a Euonymus out of its old pot took 30 minutes and I had to resort to using my largest kitchen knife, the one I never use but keep for visiting burglars. Although I plunked it in a bucket of water immediately, it is still looking somewhat shocked by the treatment today.

But it was worth it. Instead of 50 pots I now only have 30. Yeah, yeah, don't you scoff, at least Puck and I can dance on the balcony again, and it sits 3 comfortably. The plants have all recovered from their repotting ordeal and are looking gorgeous. Just in time for our Dutch heatwave. Today it will be 30, tomorrow perhaps as high as 35 degrees (add 10 for my balcony! )And then enormous thunderstorms and a plummet to 20 tops. Typical.

You can see many more photos on my Instagram @songsmith2962 and there are 2 new canvases on @grashoffr
Have a good day!



maandag 14 juni 2021

9 - Rock garden plants


 That wooden trellis planter I bought when I moved here 4 years ago has seen many plants in its life, and only the nasturtiums were a success really, so disappointing. It must be its shallowness in combination with the growing conditions on my balcony. And my own mistakes obviously: not so strange that a Lonicera, used to dappled shade, was extremely unhappy in the 40 degrees sunshine we had that first summer. I sensibly decided against turning that planter into a pond (the weight!), yes, sometimes sense takes over from sheer enthusiasm. Almost dragged it to the basement lockup to wait for that allotment (When? When?), and then had a brainwave. Now, I have many of those and most are unusable and unrealistic. But this time...

 Plants that know how to rock

Volcanic rock doesn't weigh much (tuff), so I bought a bag full of those, and mixed my old soil with a load of grit and sand. That was the sensible part. After that, the fun part: the plants!
Determined not to fall into my usual pit (falling for exciting but unsuitable plants), I went to a garden centre that caters for dummies, and thus labels all sections accordingly. They have a 'rock garden selection', where could I go wrong here, eh? 
I bought Silene schafta, Sempervivum, Campanula garganica and a gorgeous silvery leaved creeper with pale purple flowers that had the name on the pot and which I forgot to write down, and Sedum cape blanco. 
That Sedum took off! It quadrupled in size that first year (2020), and has bright yellow starry flowers right now, draping elegantly over the rocks. The Silene did well too, hasn't grown much but that's fine, and has plenty of buds. The Sempervivum was attacked by Jackdaws (why on earth? I saw a bird fly off with a section of the plant), but I divided the remainder over the planter. That pretty silvery creeper suffered terribly from the frost this winter and 3/4 died. But what is left has perked up and is in flower. But that Campanula...

 Campanula on the rampage 
Coreopsis

Here something went 'wrong' again. Something always does, don't you agree? The best laid plans of mice and gardeners, eh? Even though it came from the rock garden section and was labelled as such, my cheerful Campanula doesn't realise it is growing in a 100x50cm planter. Or it does, but doesn't care! Last year it was a pretty 10cm round mound of flowers, this year it has gone wild. Not only has it covered most of the planter already, it also tries to climb the trellis. Showing it my scissors with a dark look has not tamed it one bit. I fear I must show it who is boss here. But I'll let it flower first...they are like little lavender stars.

Plans
Nasturtium Black Velvet 

The weather has turned lovely, plenty of sunshine, temperatures into the middle twenties C (add 10 degrees for my balcony). So that means: watering. Even though I try to get plants which either like or tolerate my clifftop conditions, most of them are gasping by nightfall. Watering them is a pleasure, it is relaxing, it releases a lovely earthy scent and I go all Zen. But it does take quite some time. Puck is wise to this routine and stands ready to lap up everything I spill, for some reason she loves all water which is not in her water bowl (shower, dishwasher, puddles, etc), which is a bother when I use a liquid feed. I have to lock her inside then, and she sulks.
So. I have decided to rearrange my garden. I will gather the plants from the many many individual pots, and group them in 3 large planters. Hopefully that will make them happy, will save me some time, and give me more space to sit and perhaps even have a tiny table on there, so I can eat without spilling everything in my lap, and walk around without stubbing my toes when I hunt for those slugs. I'll keep you informed about my progress.

You can read more about the rock garden, and see lots more photos on Instagram @songsmith2962 and my original art is @grashoffr 


zaterdag 12 juni 2021

8 - Growing veggies on a clifftop

 Grow your vegetables!

We are urged to eat less meat and sugar, and more veggies.
The shadiest corner at 21:30
As a gardener, obviously I couldn't agree more. Growing plants is fun, and growing something delicious to eat is double fun. The delight you feel when a seedling shows itself, and then watching that tiny thing grow until you can harvest it...it appeals to the deepest instinct of survival. And then when you compare the taste of your wonky home-grown cucumber to that watery straight as a ruler supermarket one...need I say more?


  Clifftop conditions

Now, I've told you my balcony garden has issues. It is SW facing, and almost always extremely windy. When the sun shines, it scorches from 11 a.m. until sundown. A slug colony lives underneath the decking and comes up to have raves at night. Everything needs to be grown in pots. And the pollinators have to be lured in.
My first efforts at growing veg were mostly disastrous. The runner beans made lovely runners, cute orange flowers and produced exactly 1 beautiful bean, due to non-pollination. The sweet potato looked gorgeous, it has such pretty coloured leaves don't you agree? But when I dug up the tubers they were mushy and spongey. The ginger shriveled up. The 2 courgette plants produced huge leaves, looked terrific, but I got only 4 courgettes.
 Parsley, aniseed and raddish  


  Mind you, there have been successes as well, thank Frith,       otherwise I would have lost heart.
 So far I have grown great tomatoes, chilis, strawberries, herbs, and the nasturtiums which I use in salads do very well indeed.   Salad greens do alright, as long as I protect them from the slugs.
  The strawberries need protection as well, from slugs sure, but even more from Puck, who loves them. She has turned biting them delicately off the stem into an art form.
 Plastic containers work best, as that sun dries out the much nicer terracotta ones much too fast. Plastic is against my green principles, but needs must. And I only get the ones made from recycled plastic, promise! I fill them with multi-purpose peatfree organic soil (with free slug embryos, grumble grumble grumble).

 Making plans

Because I am trying to grow lathyrus via a miniature teepee onto my bubble chair, I got to thinking about rigging a line between 2 large teepees, and having another go at beans. Now that I know there aren't enough visiting pollinators, I could try to have a go at pollinating the plants myself. That would be a first. Will keep you informed about it. Oh, when I finally get my allotment I will go wild...with my eyes closed I can see it already...
You can read more about my balcony garden on Instagram @songsmith2962 and my original art is @grashoffr .
Have a lovely day in your garden!

woensdag 9 juni 2021

7 - Gardening means Sanity

 "What is depression like? It's like drowning, except you can see everyone around you breathing." (HealthyPlace.com)

In spring 2020 the world was thrown into a pandemic and I went to pieces.


Mental health and gardening 

 My garden is not a luxury, nor a chore. It is a necessity for my mental health. Let me explain.

In February 2020 Covid-19 struck. Except the Netherlands had no clue it did, so our Catholic South celebrated carnival as usual and many other people went on their habitual skiing trip. By March people started to die; we were thrown into strict lockdown and shock. Schools, shops, bars, theatres, all places where people could gather were closed, folk were ordered to work from home.  By means of only one governmental commandment (thou shalt stay at home) my existence ground to a halt and I lost my entire social life overnight. I was also prohibited from visiting my gravely ill Mum, who lived in a secure old folks home due to her Alzheimer's and cancer.

Blossom time

Spring. Paradoxically, that Spring was the most gorgeous one I can remember. So at first I admired the blossom on the trees, the sunshine, the suddenly unprecedented clean kerosenetrail free blue skies, and rejoiced in my garden. But pretty soon loneliness sneaked up on me. I loathed the online lessons and meetings, I missed company, my art clubs, my band and most of all I felt I failed my mother. I was not allowed to visit her.

My balcony garden looked amazing in the sunshine. The Pelargoniums were a riot of colour, the Roses and Cannas were gorgeous, the herbs did great, everything seemed  hunky dory. But there was this dark Paynes Grey fog slowly but surely creeping over my Eden,  and covering me when I sat reading, next to Puck. And it wouldn't lift. Every time I battled medical burocracy, trying to them allow me to see my Mum but failing, that fog got a bit darker. And every time I lost half a newly written test paper at work because of defunct IT whatever, it deepened again.

And then in June Mum took to her bed and didn't come out. She was in pain, so much pain, she told me in a video call helped by a carer, but by the time I had screamed at her doctor and was finally allowed a 10 minute visit, all kitted up in PPE, she didn't recognise me anymore. I wasn't allowed to sit with her during her last hours. She died all alone.

My garden was my solace

Arrangements for her funeral were what kept me going, but afterwards there was a hole as large as the Cornwall porcelain quarry. It felt as bleached bone dry as well. And I turned to what I have done since I was a child in times of distress: I turned to the green spaces. Walking my dog was allowed, and cycling too, so that's what I did. I spent hours sitting amongst my plants, just sitting. You can say what you like, I am convinced that plants heal. Simply being with them, smelling them, brings peace. 

I used my Arabian mint to make tea, and watched the wind rustle the leaves of the Cannas, bathing in the scent of the lavender and lemon Pelargoniums. The English rose smiled at me. I imagined it spoke to me. A rose is a rose is a rose, and you will be alright. And I said thank you, for attempting to keep me grounded and sane.

In loving memory of Mum, who died on June 11th, 2020.

You can also follow me on Instagram @songsmith2962 and @grashoffr


zondag 6 juni 2021

6 - Happy Hostas

 Some years ago now, I gave up on hostas. But life changes, in this case for the best.

My happy hosta

Hostas project that lush jungle like vibe that I love. Having grown up in a rural area, surrounded by apple orchards, wheat, sugarbeets and lots of grassland dotted with Friesians (how typically Dutch would you like?), my world was flat, green, and small-leaved. My Mum took me to a hortus botanicus when I was 8, and I fell in love with tropical plants on the spot. Jungle Book became my favourite film, and I dreamed of living in a jungle. Mind you, visiting Aruba when I was 11 quickly made me realise: tropical plants, great, all those venomous insects that thrive there, and snakes, erm...not my thing. "Oh, don't you worry, they won't hurt you if you leave them alone", I was told. Yeah, right. After a very up close and personal encounter with a small scorpion that stung me on the stomach when it had hidden itself in my t-shirt for a nice snooze ("aren't you lucky it was a small one"), I decided jungle life was not for me!


Slugs! Loathe them! 

But the love for large green leaves remained. I wanted a gunnera, was told I was barmy, as it would dominate the entire garden. So planted a pergola kiwi instead. Very lush, very green, and it grew huge. And hostas, must have hostas, as they come as close to a 'tropical vibe' as you can get in this climate. But the many slugs and snails in my old garden came to dinner daily, and nothing worked. I tried coffee grains, sharp sand, sharp grit, beer traps, picking them off twice a day, and was still left with just the veins. 


Balcony garden  

On my balcony though, the picking off method works, hurray! As long as I do it daily. So here I have had two gorgeous hostas for 4 years. They take centre stage, and are admired by everyone that visits. They are blooming at the moment, a month later than usual due to the extremely cold April and May this year. And believe me they are pampered.


vrijdag 4 juni 2021

5 - Ravishing Roses

 Shakespeare used a rose to explain something: 'What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet...'

Still, the word rose evokes quite a different image from the word turd, and a turd smelling as sweet as a rose...would we rave about our dog's turds? I doubt it.

Roses are amongst my garden favourites. I walk the longer way home simply to pass the house which is festooned by a climbing New Dawn. So it cannot come as a surprise to you that I had to have some roses in my balcony garden. 
The first that joined my life (sorry, I'm a weird plant nut, remember, so roses are family) was the Rosa canina you see on the left. It was small, and past its best, so a bargain. But it smelled divine and fitted in my saddle bag, so what's not to love? We've kept each other company for 4 years now, and it has bravely weathered several gales, drought, snow and frosts. It blooms, I give it a haircut and it blooms again.
It is always the first one to show buds, and to wave her first flowers at me - look, look at me!

Then 2 years ago a friend took me to an old nursery in the next town, where they grow old fashioned roses. The scent from the greenhouse was heavenly. So I brought home an English tea rose. It starts out with salmon and yellow buds, opens up to salmon flowers and then the blooms fade to a buttery yellow within a few days. I've repotted it twice, and it blooms twice in a season as well. This modest beauty has been blown over during the gale last April. I found her on her head in the rock garden, but she only dropped some leaves and rearranged her branches  - let's get on with it, she quietly said, I don't want to think about my ordeal ever again.

And then there are my miniature anonymous hybrids that I rescued from the DIY centre. You know the kind, they are covered with flowers when they appear on the shelves and usually die within a fortnight? I got three for the price of two ( ha!), and they have been with me for 4 years as well. They are like rowdy little boys, jostling each other for space, and always poking their noses at whatever flavour of the year they share their planter with. They have viscious needle-like thorns, and shout loudly when they want a drink - hey! Thirsty!
I planted one of those little thugs in my cottage garden 26 years ago, and it has climbed the elderberry next to it and is now over 10 m tall, almost smothering that elderberry in blood red roses every year.


Not all my roses have been a success...In the first year I tried to get a Schneewittchen to wind through my trellis. I'd had one in my cottage garden, where it met a New Dawn halfway across the pergola and was easy going and gorgeous. But here the lady complained about the balcony, it did not like the planter, it got into a fight with the depressed Honeysuckle, and got black spot. She howled she hated it so much she was going to kill herself, and made good on that threat. We remember her with fond regret.

#roses #thedutchdeltagardener #gardenista #gardeningistherapy #gardening #greenthumbs #myhappyplace

If you'd like to see more photos of my Roses, you can visit my garden on Instagram @songsmith2962 and @grashoffr



dinsdag 1 juni 2021

4 - My garden of Eden


 "Eden: the beautiful garden where Adam and Eve, the first human beings, lived before they did something God had told them not to and were sent away, often seen as a place of happiness and innocence."

That's according to the Oxford Advanced Learner's Dictionary.

When I first read this it intrigued me, the 'did something', it is surprisingly vague. To me, beautiful gardens are meant to be worked, apples are meant to be picked, otherwise that happiness is swiftly erased by swarms of wasps, slugs and other assorted creepy crawlies. Innocence? Hm. I was told not to use plants taller than 50 cm, but that first summer my verbena bonariensis grew taller than me (I'm 1.69). Luckily there are no snakes on Voorne, otherwise I would have been evicted pronto.

We do have a lot of other wildlife around here. It's the proximity of water and greenery. At the end of my street, near the small ferry to the next isle, there are abandoned playing fields. The football and tennis club have moved out and the animals have moved back in. The large white poplars and summer oaks house ringneck parakeets, woodpeckers, ravens, crows, doves and a roost of jackdaws. In 2019 a buzzard raised two chicks there. Underneath the trees live hares, voles, mice, and I come across the occasional roe deer or two at dawn. Herons fish, mute swans nestle, all kinds of waterfowl make a hell of a racket. We even boast two beavers. 

I love it. To me, rewilding is the magical word of the decade. I do realise that parcel of land is meant for a housing project, but long may my council lack the funding! In the meantime I try to lure the wildlife to my garden. The slugs have rather unfortunately made it their home, that wasn't in the plan. But I coo over every ladybird and bumblebee that flies onto my flowers. I'd love butterflies and sorely miss my old pond with damselflies and dragonflies. I've put up an insect hotel and feed the birds. And try to plant pollinator flowers.

So this year I have sown some seeds. Aniseed (especially for the flowers), marigolds, lathyrus, two kinds of nasturtium, and mixed pollinator seed. I put the seed trays on my heated living room floor (that works well for the seedlings, not so much for me, as walking becomes an obstacle course) and meant to put them outside in April, like all normal gardeners do. Except it was so extremely cold, all through April. So they remained indoors.

We had night frost up to May 28th, I kid you not!

Those seedlings grew well. Puck thought so too, and bit off all the heads one afternoon when I was out. I cried. There, I'm not ashamed to admit it. But I did put them out in the cold after that and kept my fingers crossed. Well, unlike the cheap red Lidl rescued salvias I had planted to brighten up the gloom, those seedlings took the frost and rainstorms in their stride. They hardly grew at first, and the nasturtiums lost some leaves to the wind, but they survived. Unlike my beloved cannas. Not a shoot in sight so far, deep sigh. I fear I've lost both pots. I adored those blood red cannas, even more so because I rescued the original one from the local DIY centre, where it was thrown onto the rejects tray and I got myself a bargain for €1. I'm big on rescue, my Puck is a rescued dog, many of my plants are and I could use a good rescue myself. Anyway, that one miserable canna was divided into two gorgeous plants last year, and every evening Puck and I sat next to them and praised every flower.

#cannas #rewilding #seedlings #wildlife #thedutchdeltagardener #birds #plantaholic #gardeningistherapy #adoptdontshop #rescueddog 

You can read more about my balcony garden at Instagram @songsmith2962 and @grashoffr


183E - Monsoon / publishing Boerenwormkruid

  Bloody hell,  was it a turn around, or what? Almost unbelievable that last Saturday evening I was sitting out on the Middelharnis waterfro...