2026/4 - Memories of gardens past.

 Most of us gardeners never forget our previous garden(s). Which is logical; you have spent hours and hours of your life tending and shaping that garden, right? Sometimes you move on to an even better garden, sometimes you reluctantly can't.

Our first garden, 1969, hugely significant, for there I fell in love with green things. Especially with the meadows, where my mother kept goats, whom I adored. And the weeping willows, where a family of screetch owls lived.

She left the upkeep to others...who all accepted my interest with indulgence (and roped me in when nails and gardening tools had to be handed up, etc.) and gave me rides in the wheelbarrow.

This first home in the Dutch countryside, miles from a village, formed me. Eventhough I enjoy visits to cities, before long I need to get out.

My first garden

In 1987 I started my very first garden, on a balcony, so life has gone full circle by now. I again have a balcony garden now, as well as an allotment.

I was very proud of my garden, and quite disappointed when folks came round for drinks and did not even notice my pretty flowers.

The first proper garden

But then! In 1993 hubby and I moved to a corner house in a council row, so we had a front, side and back garden. Oh joy of joys! Hubby threw himself into the hard landscaping, and into keeping ornamental doves, and I spent every free minute shaping my dream garden.

Sorry for the blurry photo, this was pre-computer or mobile phones. But you get the gist of the lay-out.

I am still trying to duplicate the lush greenness of this garden on my allotment, but the soil is very different there, unfortunately.

For example, those Japanese Anemones,  the shining stars of my previous  garden, simply do not do well in my present garden. I keep trying though...as I really like them.

The side garden as seen from the fence. We had just planted a plum tree.

My daughter's rabbit Honing (honey) perched on his 'mount'. He had the run of the garden, and sat for hours on that pile of roofing panes, surveying his kingdom. The dog, cats and doves all respected him, as he was quite feisty.

The greenhouse was a great addition. Finally able to grow proper tomatoes and cucumbers was wonderful.

The last addition we made to that garden was a large pond...and I have no photos of that, unfortunately. Life took an unpredictable turn and I had to leave my old life and this garden behind.

I have no regrets about leaving that house, at all, but the garden...I still dream about that garden regularly.

Present day

I am nothing if not a pragmatist, so my present garden is very different. I try to go with the flow of my allotment garden, and some things work out better than others. The one thing that has not changed, is my love of emersing myself in my plants, both on my balcony and on my plot. I feel happiest when they tower over me...it must be the willows that imprinted on my early youth.

I already have made plans for both balcony and allotment for 2026, that is the sheer fun of gardening, isn't it?

So from Puck and me, a very green, happy weekend!

Do visit my website at Renée Grashoff Schrijft

Bye!

Renée Grashoff 

2025/54 - Oldies but Goodies!

 Merry Christmas! And if you are of another part/inclination, happy holidays, happy weekend, happy life!

And a special 'great to see you!' to my readers in Hong Kong, Mexico and Singapore!

May it bring you all you desire. May it bring us all peace!

Us delta-dwellers being in the midst of bleak, grey winter, there is not a lot to mention about my gardens. So I decided to give you some highlights (with my never before published photos) of the five years I have now been gardening at my allotment.

By the way, Puck & I raided the bushes on our walkies late last night, to make you all a quicky wreath.

Very close to the entrance to the allotments is a 'sloot' with willows. This is in spring 2021. I frequently meet a barn owl along this narrow road in the early morning, when it swoops over our heads, scaring Puck.

The bare bones of Hunky Dory in May 2022. I had spent the winter months clearing all leftover potatoes and weeds from it (missing a few), laying the paths with woodchip and digging the frog pond. As soon as I put that white gravel down, I hated it! And I was taken aback and dismayed by the utter lack of invertebrates in my soil.

By September I had assembled two planters, to give the garden some much needed height, and the struggling plants some proper soil to grow in.

By April 2023 the perennial beds had filled out considerably, and I started spotting earthworms, millipedes, beetles and toads amongst the slugs.

By July I counted 5 different kinds of butterfly where before, in 2021, there had been none.

Part of my harvest in August 2023. Whatever they say, it DOES taste better!

My drumstick onions in all their glory in July 2024. I think they are such fun! And they last for ages. Mind you, by now (the tail end of 2025) they are disappearing a bit, I should plant some fresh bulbs. The Verbena Bonariensis seeds itself all over the place, from the batch of seedlings I planted out in the first year.

By August 2024 the woodchip paths had been changed to grass, and the perennials had really taken off. I chucked all the woodchip into the borders in early 2023, hoping the invertebrates (and plants) would thank me for it.

The same bed in October 2024. Already heading towards winter, but still quite interesting.

The other side of the garden, looking towards the road and my compost heaps, is where the Artichokes dominate. In 2025, due to the drought of more than 7 months, the flower heads were very small compared to previous years. So far this perennial bed has been quite a struggle. Most plants I put there, do not like it, but some thrive. Grasses, mostly! And that silver Pine on the left has taken it as its mission to grow a metre a year. It was sold to me as 'a dwarf species' ! Ha!

Before the summer storm blew them down to the ground this year. Mind you, I tied them up against the obelisk again, but they took a beating.

I do grow a varied crop of tomatoes each year, liking to experiment with types I haven't grown before. These are yellow zebras, lovely for salads but useless to cook with.

2025 was a terrible year for butterflies... But my scabiosa always attracts the ones that do show themselves.

Early morning last April, sunrise over the misty (river) Brielse Maas. The best time of day to my mind. Nobody out, just the birds, Puck and me. And the very occasional beaver.

And thus we are full circle to spring.

Have a lovely weekend, try to take some time to watch the birds, feel the wind and smell the flowers (if you have any near you).

Visit me at my website Renée Grashoff Schrijft

And do visit me here, you are very welcome!

Renée Grashoff 

2025/12 - Wakey, wakey, my green lovely!

 We have had days and days of sunshine, hardly any wind, and though the nights were all below 8°C, no frosts. So my garden is definitely waking up!

The warmest part at the moment is the bank of the ditch. It is in full sunlight for hours on end, and it cheers my soul.

Another plant that is profiting from that sunny bank is my rhubarb. Last week a mass of almost black plant matter still, this week it has woken up, hurray!

Isn't it gorgeous?

I have four plants, so a glut of rhubarb is coming. Rhubarb crumble, rhubarb sauce, rhubarb jelly, and plain old rhubarb as a side dish. Delicious.

This plant is also showing its eagerness to get going. I believe it is called red pimpernel in English, rode pimpernel in Dutch. It was a gift from someone else's garden, and she didn't know the Dutch name.

Could not resist more of these happy faces... They make me forget all (well, I lie, not all) troubles in Europe and the USA. (Still called the USA? Or is that a forbidden word now? I can't keep up! Breast-feed is a no-no, but tit, totally acceptable, as is pussy. Well, obviously).

If you look closely in the corner on the left, you see the self-seeded  aquilegias. And a lot of that pesky grass that is self-seeding as well...grumble. But I will come with the trimmer very soon. For now I will leave it, as the nights are still very cold and my wildlife needs all the shelter it can find.

I say 'my wildlife', because when you pour all of your effort and frankly love into a garden, it is hard not to get possessive about it, right? So I can say I pray that this year my resident mice will leave MY seed trays alone!

My neighbour says "why don't you put some traps down?" - ehm... because I am the one who has to empty them.

I've tried to be clever and left the outer rims empty. Perhaps it will fool them. Probably not.

Since my first batch of spider plant babies froze (so, so sorry...), I have potted up the second batch. My plant at home provides me with a never-ending supply. There is a cyclamen there as well, also from a plant in my home.

Grape hyacinth

  Some grape hyacinths have turned up next to the frog pond, so sweet. They are very welcome.

   Oh, I have moved the obelisk from there, and put it more to the front of the plot. It was being crowded by the shrub next to it. They (I have two) need a new lick of paint. Another job.

   Talking of jobs, the winter quiet of the allotments has vanished. I was 'greeted' by the sound of hammering, sawing, drilling and tilling from all sides. But I have my little secret: I go early, before most people arrive. And then when the enthusiastic cacaphony starts, I leave. And what does that say about me, eh?

Simply that I like my peace and quiet.

Have a lovely weekend, and if you happen to be in the neighbourhood of Brielle, don't forget I have a 'meet-and-greet' in bookshop Hoofdstuk Een, Nobelstraat 16, Brielle, 15.00-17.30 at March 21st. My book 'Boerenwormkruid' will be available and I will gladly sign it for you.

Groetjes, Renée Grashoff 

 

2025/9 - Oh, thank All the Gods that the sun is out!

 Any God can apply for the job, by the way, I'm not picky!

After too many, too long days of greyness, wetness and chilly gloom, today the sun is out! Sooooooo lovely!

I cycled to Hunky Dory to let some water out of my waterbutts, as there will be frost in the night, and I don't want them to burst. I was the only one there, so it was just me, the worms popping up out of the ground (their homes were flooded by me, sorry, sorry) and the narcisii showing colour.

Every spring it is a happy event for me to pick the first bunch to take home.

That ditch wall is the first soil to warm up, so these bulbs flower first. I took a quick look at my other bulbs, and they are coming along nicely as well. The newly planted Camassias are 10cm above ground.

After a struggling first few years, my Viburnum tinus is finally looking as if she has decided to put down roots. Good, she's very welcome to stay.

Can you spot the Camassia? Bright green, on the left. Monty Don says it is 'a bit of a thug', but I have plenty of those in my garden, so I dare it to challenge the others.

Slowly, slowly, the Hellebore opens up. I wait with great anticipation for the first bumblebees to wake up. I suspect some of them live very near that Hellebore. But this week it is far too cold for them still.

The majority of my plants and shrubs are still straw coloured. It makes the sheds and glasshouses stand out, as well as those waterbutts. Not very pretty...But oh well, it is an allotment after all. And just you wait for my roses.

Oh, will you look at that sky?! But I prefer that to the solid grey one we see so very often over here.

Puck and I braved two snow showers already, which turned her into the puppy that she has not been for 9 years. But the snow has melted away as soon as it fell, the frost is only in the night. 

Anyway, that sun lifts everyone's spirits, you can tell. May it stay with us for a while! Have a lovely weekend!

Renée Grashoff is the author of 'Boerenwormkruid'

ISBN 9789492881939

NUR 342

Trichisboeken.nl 

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