2026/21 - 10 Reasons to Embrace the New Climate

 Seriously, Renée?

Yes...My stoic self tells me I cannot change the climate single-handedly, so I may as well resign myself to it. It's very simple to moan, and I could find a 100 reasons to. But instead I will attempt to find postivity, and share this with you lovely folk.

1.

The tall grasses along the river walk, on the other side of what you can see in this photo, are over a month early in their tallness. That means Puck can walk on the path through the tall grass which has been mowed especially for that purpose, without being spotted by other dogs. In the very early mornings (that photo I took at 06.15 a.m) there is no need to hide though, right then my reactive rescued doggie and I have the entire riverbank to ourselves. Which is the exact reason we get up that early!

2.

The vegetation underneath my favourite Willow is a month early as well. Which is good for the insects, which in turn is great for the birds, who are nesting earlier too. I have been enjoying the 'cuc-koo!' of the cuckoo for a fortnight already, and spotted the first swallows that have returned. The crows in the roost down the road have fledglings already, and keep a beady eye on Puck, who ignores them.

3.

In Mildenburgbos wood in Oostvoorne, the Wild Garlic is prolific, and scents the air. I would love to get some to make pesto, but a. it is forbidden to pick and b. there are masses of dogs being walked there...garlic pesto à la pee...no thanks. The new climate means we enjoy balmy weather much earlier in the season, mid-May feels like the end of June.

4.

There is absolutely no need to force my Rhubarb, as I grow much more than I can eat, and this is very early as well. I give loads away to the immigrants in the Taalcafé (Dutch language café) I volunteer at twice a week, to teach them Dutch. It always makes me laugh when they sniff at the stalks suspiciously. This is edible? But I provide my recipe, and so far they all love it.

5.

My Roses are, so far, taking the lack of rain in the Spring (3rd year running with hardly any rain in what should be very wet months!) in their stride. This one is already in flower, and the other three are full of buds. I adore my Roses, so I watch them like an eagle for signs of stress, and water them.

6.

Okay...I am struggling a bit now... Can I find four more reasons to be happy about the lack of rain? Or about nature being confused? Can nature be confused?

These are the Lilacs next to the ruin of Oostvoorne Castle, and they smell delicious. Lilacs are unassuming when not in flower, a bit boring really. But when they do so...hardly anything beats them for scent. Rain makes them look bedraggled. (I told you, struggling)

7.

The sunny, unseasonably hot weather, has made visiting the coast a lot of fun. This early in the season it is not overrun (yet) by tourists. It was extremely windy at the Brouwersdam (hence the bad hair), and this restaurant used to stand on the beach...Due to seawater levels rising, it is now permanently in the sea, and that beach is history. Need I remind you my country is situated approx. 4m. below that sea level? Oops, this is not exactly a positive...delete.

8.

Found one! Reason #8 to be positive, is that we can grow Grapes outside of greenhouses. We used to wax lyrical about vineyards across the border in France and Germany, well, we have our own these days. So there. Okay, we lack the gradient, and proper soil (to name a not unimportant detail), and our delta tends to get very muggy in Summer, but the vines do grow. I have my own, and am very proud of it. Any grapes? Nope, not so far.

9. 

I am stumped, I must admit. Cannot think of a reason to be positive about all those storms, one after the other, that we are experiencing, but most without a drop of rain for my gasping garden. So I just post a pretty picture of the Bluebells in Mildenburgbos. Gorgeous, isn't it?

10.

My rescued girl from Curaçao. She's having a good sniff, other dogs use that spot to swim. She does not swim. She does not do most doggie things, like play, jump around like a happy maniac, or chase sticks or balls. My Puck was chained up, beaten, starved and permanently pregnant, before she was rescued and flown over to me. Her joys are simple: eat, sleep, get belly rubs and feel safe. Climate change means nothing to her. She enjoys her walks best when no other dogs are around, in her mind her species is a threat. We have a lot in common, my dog and I, that's why we get along so well.

Do look me up for more stories about my country at Renée Grashoff Schrijft

Or when you are looking to adopt a dog, and give it a good life, here is the link to Curaçao Animal Rights Foundation CARF

Have a good week, wherever you are!

Renée Grashoff 

2026/18 - Naturalistic gardening

After 4 years of blogging about the same two gardens, there is a tendency to repeat myself. The foundation of the gardens stays the same, obviously, as in both I cannot change it. A balcony stays a balcony, and on an allotment you are bound to rules.

 But still, I do try to renew and rewild.

On the balcony, I have changed around the climbers in two of the planters, from cucumbers and tomatoes to roses and Achillea. I have decided to keep the veg to the allotment.

I've told you the frog pond is a failed project, right? So I have given up refilling it weekly, and now let it get naturally soggy by occasional rainshowers. It means the plants in there will change as well...I will miss my Waterlily, but I hope the Papyrus will stay. I have removed the two gutters I used to direct the waterflow from my water butt to the pond. At least I will not stumble across them anymore... always a good idea not to break my neck.

This is no more...

I'll see how it evolves now, and wish my salamander good luck!

 I promised you a better photo of the orange Broom, and here it is. A lovely colour, I think!

Its white sister has grown into quite a large bush.

One of the strong, healthy plants that provide colour alongside the Broom and Tulips, is the Centaurea. I started with just a single plant, and by now it has spread all through the garden. Bumblebees love it, and so do I. 

Another 'spreader' is the Euphorbia. Again, it started with just one plant, and by now it is slowly marching away from the Artichoke patch (and who can blame it?) towards the dead hedge. My Rosemary is in flower, but my neighbour has a Rosemary bush that makes my pretty one look like a dwarf!

How about this one then! The photo does not do it justice, it is as large as a Toyota Aygo.

The last of my Narcissi to offset the new Tulips I planted in November. The yellow flowers are two cabbages I left in that border last Autumn, to give some nectar to the bees this Spring. There is a mass of Aquilegia in this border as well, that's new too, originating from the plants near the greenhouse door.

Some more Tulips, Apeldoorns Elite.

The Bergenia is doing its best to stick its head above the grass that is trying to take over this border.

This Tulip is called Miranda.

And this one should be Apeldoorns Elite, but frankly I think they put the wrong bulb in the sack, as A&E is orange with yellow edges...

Now, off-topic, look what Puck and I walked into...The entire harbour was filled with these small fish, approx 3" long, and leisurely swimming around in circles. I was amazed. So many fish, it must have been thousands! My fish knowledge does not reach far enough to be able to tell you the name, sorry.

You'd think the seagulls that are always hanging around the harbour would have a party, a rave, but funnily enough there was not a gull in sight.

I'll leave you with a photo of Brielse Meer, just before sunrise. We stumbled across four hares who were chasing eachother, and who were so into eachother that they only spotted Puck right at the last minute. They raced off, but one got so confused it ran in the wrong direction and crashed into Puck. My dog (always on leash because of the nesting waterfowl and the beavers) was so flabbergasted she just stood and stared. Well, she'll have something to dream about today!

Puck and I wish you a good week, wherever you are!

Renée Grashoff 

2025/32 - Ponds, essential holes in the ground

 You are well aware that I am struggling with my frog pond, 'cause I have moaned about it often enough, right?

Whether it is the freakish weather, or that I have a leak, I simply cannot keep it filled up to the water level I need to keep my Waterlily happy.

In February, sure, no problem then! By then it is full of leaves that have blown in from the trees along the road which runs in between the city moat and the allotments.

Here it looks alright, happy Waterlily, but only because I filled it from the water butt just before taking the photo. I cheated.

Same. This was July 2023.

This year that water butt was empty by the end of April, and it has not filled up since. I keep the tap permanently open now, so every measly drop that falls onto my greenhouse roof gets transported straight down the gutter, through the butt and into the frog pond. It keeps a couple of inches of water in there. Enough to keep my salamander and plants alive, but not enough for the Waterlily. She lives, but has not produced one single bud this year. Sod it.

Now here is a pond! 

I visited the Open Garden event organised by Groei & Bloei, a gardening society in my country, and had the pleasure of walking around two ponds in one garden in Oostvoorne.

The lady of the house had 'done' the 2 hectare garden herself, she said off-hand, as if this was achieved between breakfast and lunch one day.  She owns the field to the right as well, and has an arrangement with a neighbour who keeps his sheep there. "Just to make sure no-one gets it into his head to build there", she stated. The garden is only 4 years old, but it looked as if it had been there for 40. Huge trees ("I was lucky those trees were already there"), good landscaping, beautiful borders with gorgeous plants. The white and black ducks were 'pets', and helped her keep the garden free of slugs and snails. They live in a coop (pen?) next to the pond. It rained (it has finally started raining, folks), but did I care? Nope!

And here is the other one. You cannot spot it, but on the other side slightly to the left there is a boardwalk for lounging on and a swim ladder, you know, to swim to this pebbled beach? And then lounge some more?

She has been very clever to oh so tastefully repeat the planting on both sides of this beach. A variety of high and low Echinaecea. My camera (old mobile phone) does not do justice to the jewel colours of those flowers. I could have dug them up and taken them to Hunky Dory, wet leaves and all. In fact, if it had not started to pelt down with rain a moment later, I could have stretched out on that beach and stayed for an hour.

What a garden! She used the dug out soil of those ponds to make mounds, on top of which there were fruit trees. So the garden was uncharacteristically hilly (no hills around this delta), and just restful lawn, colourful borders and the two huge ponds, surrounded by age old beaches and willows.

Paradise!

To me, with my tiny flat and my parcel of allotment, and my faulty frog pond, it showed how other people manage to live. Am I envious? Truthfully? A teensy weensy bit. Just of the garden, mind, not the lifestyle. But hey, I have this view every morning.

It is the dammed river Brielse Maas, re-named Brielse Meer (meer = lake), that flows at the end of my street (until it meets that stupid dam).

My little patch of prairie. Those grasses become waist high! Occasionally I spot a roe deer, or if I am extremely lucky a beaver. They cross from the Brielse Meer to the small waterway near it, to nibble on the trees there. I once came across one who had just climbed out of the Meer and was strolling along the grass path, not a care in the world. Until it saw Puck and me, and then legged it to safety. And believe me, a beaver is large and it can run! My dog was so flabbergasted that she did not even bark, just stood there.

This is Puck's "what's goin' on?" look.  

So. I started with ponds and I end with my doggie.

Have a lovely weekend, wherever you are!

Renée Grashoff