2025/21 - Rain? Hm...what was that?

 Don't you worry, I am not going to rant about the lack of rain. Although I have practically forgotten what it feels and looks like by now...

Instead I am going to rave about my roses. 

When you have been following this blog for some years, and yes, some of you have, you'll know I am passionate about roses. And that even though Monty Don calls them 'tough as old boots', I struggle to keep them happy in my temperamental garden. That has a lot to do with the soil: very heavy clay, and practically lifeless because of 60 years of veg growing. There was no life in it, meaning no soil animals, when it took it over in 2021.

So I cut my losses, turned pragmatic and planted my Desdemona in a large planter in 2022, after I saw my other roses struggling in the clay. And it is absolutely wonderful!

To the right of Desdemona, against the bamboo, is a white Schneewitchen climbing rose on the verge of opening up her buds. Yes. In a pot as well. It means cycling to the garden every day to water the pots. So be it.

This anonymous rose, which has a lovely subtle scent, is actually in the clay. Every flower blooms for just one day, but there are many buds.

My Iris is just about to flower as well. It is next to the frog pond, in some partial shade, so it is happy. I have given it a babysitting task this morning: I have planted my gasping Calendula seedlings IN the pond mud. My pond water butt has been empty for the last week, so the pond is drying up...

Another pot holds my new kiwi. It seems happy, but it should be, it gets spoiled by me.

As does this fern...watering! Totally against my principle, but otherwise it will give up the ghost.

The rhubarb is fine so far, as it is next to the ditch. Pretty as they are, I have cut out the flowers this morning, and cut myself another armfull of stalks. 

I brought a load to the women language group I go to twice a week to teach them Dutch, but only two of them were brave enough to want to try to cook the rhubarb. It is not known in large parts of Europe or other parts of the world.

Mind you, Jane from China and Tatjana from Greorgia tried, and pronounced it very nice.

The clematis has survived so far.

Look at the colour of my grass! Bone dry.

Oh well...there will be some rain, sometime... In the meantime I'll give my garden daily pep talks.

I will leave you with the last photo of darling Desdemona.

Isn't she absolutely fabulous?!

Have a lovely (Mothers Day in the Netherlands) Sunday.

Renée Grashoff