2025 -5 Patience, patience, patience! (Boerenwormkruid)

 Not my thing, to be patient... Especially when I feel passionately about something, like my garden, OR my writing. So perhaps you can imagine my restlessness now that I have to wait for my gardens to wake up, for our gig with the band, and for my novel to be published all during the same month. I am like a cat on a hot tin roof. Or like my darling Puck when she notices I am getting her bowl, but am not slicing her doggie sausage just yet.

My 'historical' map of Den Briel

   Anyway, the good news is all is in hand.🤗

   The gig is happening on Feb.9th, the gardens are weathering the windy wetness and I have checked the 3rd printing proof for Boerenwormkruid (Tansy) and returned it to the publishers.

And exhale.

I realise that I am writing about a novel that most of you (3/4 of my readers are from 'foreign' countries) will not be able to read (yet?). But I will explain. There's nothing doing in my gardens right now anyway.

That woman you see speeding on her bycicle is Noor, my protagonist. Noor loves two things: her allotment and detectives. She's a pensioner now, but was a hippy in her youth, is rather eccentric, and extremely stubborn.

When she discovers a dead man in a clump of tansy on her compost heap, she decides it would be such fun to find out who murdered him.

 The second narrative in the story is that of Agnieken, a young woman in 1572, who has to deal with being a roman-catholic carer for the sick in a rapidly changing environment which is evolving to a protestant country, and thus is at war with Spain. 

At first glance the two stories have nothing in common, but as they unfold, you'll realise that there may be 450 years between Noor and Agnieken, but shockingly little has changed, at many levels.

Civilisation...Such a baffling concept. 

Just one example: there IS a medicine against AIDS, but financial motives of a xenophobic country stop this medicine from reaching people who suffer from this horrendous virus.

The Year of the Snake

    If only 'civilisation' was as warm as the drawing on the left. I have no idea what the characters beneath it spell out, but I expect they say something like 'may you have a very prosperous, healthy, happy new year, amongst your loved ones'.

   If only...As if those poor ill AIDS sufferers have no loved ones, and should simply perish.

   It makes me furious.

   But let's keep it light, right? You do not read this blog to be ranted at.

Here you are, a lovely, hopeful sign that this cold, wet, windy season too shall pass. My wallflower on the balcony is telling me it is looking forward to spring. And so am I!

If you are on the Asian side of our planet, may you enjoy your holiday week, and if you are on that other side, please remember those historical words by The Beatles: "All you need is love, love is all you need!"

Renée 

   

   

2025-4 My indoor houseplant jungle

 Most people who struggle past the coats and shoes (the hall is tiny) to enter my sitting room stop, and often gasp. And next they exclaim. The top 3 is: 3. "Oh my, you have a lot of plants", 2. "Plants always die on me" and 1. "You live in an indoor jungle." And yes, I aim to.

Cycas, Orchid and Caladium

   Before I moved to my current appartment I struggled to keep my houseplants alive as well. Central heating and not enough sunlight were the culprits. Because my garden thrived, I was (almost) certain it could not be due to my skills.

   But then I did move, and my floor to ceiling (4m high!) SW facing windows meant my room is flooded with light. In fact so much light that the three orchids I brought with me soon told me they'd had enough of that glare, and would I move them to the tiny darker bedroom, please?

   So I did. And they died anyway. This time I blamed myself, and now know I overwatered them. You live and learn, don't you?

But it is this plant I really want to show you. It is called Medinilla magnifica, or rose grape, and it is from the Melastomataceae family, and comes from the Philippines.

I have never had one, it is quite pricey and I tend to buy my plants when they are still babies or half dead, thus cheap. But this one was a gift. I found out it was bloody difficult to put down somewhere in my already over-full room, as it needs to be able to let those gorgeous bracts hang freely. So in the end I bought it its own plant stairs, which it shares with a coffee plant, a ficus and an amarylis.

It is an epiphyte...oh dear...so...will not like my direct sunlight, right? I think it will be fine by now though, as the sun does not reach my room in midwinter. But I fear I will have to move it to the bedroom by May at the latest.

This is one of my 'bought it as a baby' plants, which has grown and grown, and is by now partially blocking my TV screen. It is called Phlebodium pseudoaureum. Those names! It is a blue fern, just remember that, from tropical South-America. This is an epiphyte as well, but it tolerates my bright room in winter. I have to move it in the summer months as well though...

Mind you, I think plants rather enjoy to be moved from time to time, almost as if they get bored with the same view after a while.

I have already told you about the Chlorophytum comosum a while ago, so I'll skip it for now.

No the one I do want to tell you about, is my Senecio.

Some years ago I bought a small Senecio radicans, or String of Bananas. Except I had no idea what I'd bought, and had to look it up. A succulent, well, that much I knew from its thick stem and waxy thick leaves. So I treated it as my other succulents: right in front of that window, not too much water. It did well and grew and grew. But three repottings later it was not happy any longer. In order to try and please it, I changed its plastic pot for a terracotta one. And then put it outside on the balcony by the end of May.

And will you look at it now😁 Actually, it needs repotting again, but I will wait until May. My plantbook tells me it can produce off-white cinnamon-scented flowers in late spring, gosh, I do hope so! This is a plant my friend from Malaysia shouts about every time she sees it, she says it looks like an alien.

Philodendron and Primula

Alien-looking or not, I adore it.

The last photo is of my promise of spring, the primula.  It reminds me that winter will end, that I will be able to have my early morning walkies with Puck in daylight in a couple of months, that those endless grey skies will clear, that I will be working in my garden again and plant that primula there.

I hope you've enjoyed a peep into my indoor jungle and that you will have a lovely weekend.

Renée 

2025/3 - Don't believe everything you read

 Last week I told you I plan to prune my 'olijfwilg' , or olive willow to you (Elaeagnus Ebbingei), but that I want to make certain I do so in the right season.

The top branches of the olijfwilg

   So I looked up the information on the internet, as one does these days, right? Well, that was quite confusing. Most sites

 (not all, mind) told me to do it twice a year, in February/March and June/July, but "not during the growing season!"

Excuse me? Shrubs do not grow during June/July? News to me!

  Only after looking up at least 6 sites, did I think to look at the label of my olijfwilg, which I had kept.

   

Here you are, proof!

The print is a bit too small, but is says 'pruning in February/March'.

So there you are, you should not blindly follow information you find on the internet.

The last few days we are having thick fog along with near freezing temperatures, so it is not a pleasure to be outside. Foggy conditions are a given so close to the sea. I don't mind walking Puck though, as it makes our early morning walkies quite mysterious. The moorhens are awake at 06.00, and they usually make their presence known by squawking very loudly, and this time my brain registered an oak leaf fluttering up from the grass to a branch. That is weird, I thought stupidly, before I realised it was a tiny treacreeper.

Anyway, because I have nothing new, let alone cheery, to show you here is a photo from last June, again with my olive willow, verbena bonariensis and in the background the monarda.

And I'll finish with my favourite rose.

This is it, Desdemona, in the planter. Just imagine a few of these against my new frame, eh? I can't wait!

Right, have a lovely weekend wherever you are.

Renée 

2025/2 - And We're Off, my garden and me!!

 Last November I promised you that I would resume regular blogs a.s.a. the bulbs would show themselves; they are above ground! Since we had a storm with wind speeds up to 108 km/h in my area yesterday, I visited Hunky Dory this afternoon, to check if all was well. Thankfully it was.

 If you are reading this in the affected areas with snow blizzards or fires in the USA, I am wishing you strength! 

We had 1cm of snow last Sunday and I was over the moon...I cannot begin to imagine what you must be going through over there.

After an hour the rain returned

   When I arrived at Hunky Dory the sun showed itself, hurray!

   So instead of just checking, I actually pulled up my sleeves and tackled the first gardening jobs of 2025.

   I dragged some old artichoke branches to the compost heap, put some old cardboard on for good measure and watered my Spider plants that are living in the greenhouse. Next I topped up the frog pond (the level had dropped despite the rain) and let some water out of my water butts, as they are predicting night frosts for this week. 

   As I told you in blog 1, I am planning to try runner beans, climbing courgettes and climbing pumpkins this year, so I built them a frame. I used some old bright blue plastic rope the old geezer who had the garden before me had left behind in the shed: loathe it, but waste not, want not. Hopefully the greenery will cover that blue stuff pretty quickly.

See? I told you! Bulbs! They are narcisii, paperwhites.

During the winter months I gasp for green shrubs, and my Elaeagnus Ebbingei does not disappoint! From a 30 cm baby it has grown into a thug I now need to curb in its expansion, as it has totally overgrown the path. I will wait until late February and then will lift its canopy, unless it is safe to do it sooner, I must research that.

My kitchen sage is doing well; here you see it enjoying the sunshine.

And so is the rosemary, already starting to bloom! Oh dear, that night frost...

The malus looking pretty

    Last winter the birds had eaten all the tiny apples, but so far they are still hanging proudly.

   Can you see the clouds starting to gather? Always too good to be true, blue skies in January.

But I really wanted to build that frame, so I soldiered on.

And here it is, built in true allotment style from Tonkin sticks and old apple tree branches I cut off last autumn.

Must say I am pretty pleased with my effort. And I can't wait to put the seedlings next to it. But that will have to wait!

The Hellebore next to the frog pond is showing colour. It used to be apricot coloured, but reverted to pink after a year (pissing me off, as I paid a lot of money for it to be apricot). Still, it is very pretty in pink too, and it is just about the first thing to start blooming, so it's forgiven.

Right, this is the last photo for this week. This is in the border next to the greenhouse, and never disappoints. I pruned it quite harshly, but it has recovered and now looks great, giving me a welcoming splash of colour when I arrive at my plot.

Have a lovely weekend!

Renée 

2025 /1 - I love snowy days

 When Puck woke me this morning (06.30, so good dog) we stepped out of the door into a white winter wonderland. And it was still snowing, so my doggy was happy instantly. She adores snow, as do I.

This watercolour is from 2020, I painted it after the last time we had proper snow. 

Puck and I were the only ones out, except for the many waterfowl, who had marched down the path before us, leaving their prints.

But at 8 a.m. the snow had already melted and it had turned to rain, such a shame.

So to cheer myself up, I looked at some old balcony garden photos, from a few years ago. I am already looking forward to the new gardening season, aren't you?

My hands are itching to start, but I know from experience I will have to wait a bit. My greenhouse is unheated. So far my attempts to grow runner beans have been rather feeble, but I'm determined to try again this year, in another spot, and from pots. My clay has thwarted me so far, so this year I will try a new strategy. Why not? I have plenty of large pots.

And look, one of my neighbours grew pumpkins in his raised bed, so I'll try that (again) this year too! And I'd love to attempt one of those weird hanging yellow courgettes. So: the only way is UP! Up from that rock hard summer soil that keeps frustrating a lot of my efforts.

I'll leave you with a photo of what is to come very soon. I cannot wait!

Have a good January, enjoy the snow if you are lucky enough to have it (now don't grumble at me, having months and months of grey skies and rain is no picnic I tell you!).

Renée