13 - To cottage, or not to cottage? / Cottagetuin of niet?

 Of course I know cottage is not a verb, but sitting here in the gloom looking out on my balcony garden, to me it is.

I have great news!

You know I told you I was waiting for an allotment, right? I have been allocated one. Now, I have not seen the exact plot yet, so in fact know nothing, but that does not stop me from making plans.

The immediate question is in what style will I create my mix of veg, herbs, fruit and flowers? My old cottage garden springs to mind. I adored that garden, and cried when leaving it behind. But that gorgeous garden, with its buxus bordered beds, and old Dutch cobbled paths, and sheds and greenhouse and large pond, was managed by two gardeners, and now there will only be one...back-achey older version me!

Caution and sensible planning need to be implemented. Ideally the beds need to be raised (The Back). But I dislike straight lines. Curved lines, but how? Money is an issue (there is little), and also the fact that the hard landscaping will have to be done by me ( again something The Back will not like. I will bribe it with the prospect of a Korenwijn afterwards).

But it will be such fun!

You can see the first photos on Instagram @songsmith2962 soon.

 Natuurlijk weet ik dat cottage geen werkwoord is.  Maar hier zittend in het halfduister met uitzicht op mijn balkontuin, maak ik er gewoon eentje van.

Ik heb geweldig nieuws! Jullie weten dat ik op de wachtlijst stond voor een volkstuin, toch? Ik heb er eentje toegewezen gekregen. Ik weet nog niet exact waar op het complex, dus eigenlijk weet ik nog niks, maar dat houdt me niet tegen om alvast plannen te maken.

De eerste vraag is in welke stijl ik mijn mix van groente, kruiden, fruit en bloemen zal planten. Vroeger had ik een cottage tuin. Ik was gek op die tuin, en moest huilen toen ik haar achterliet.  Maar die prachtige tuin, met haar buxusperken, Waalse steentjespaden, schuurtjes, kas en grote vijver werd bijgehouden door twee tuinlieden, en nu zal er maar één zijn...slechte-rug oudere versie Ik!

Voorzichtigheid en verstandig plannen is geboden. Eigenlijk moeten het opgehoogde bedden worden (De Rug). Maar ik heb een hekel aan rechte lijnen. Dus gebogen lijnen, hoe dan? Geld is een dingetje (heb het niet), en ook het feit dat al het graaf- en bouwwerk door mijzelf gedaan moet worden (ook iets waar De Rug niet blij mee zal zijn. Ik zal hem moeten omkopen met een Korenwijn na afloop). Maar het wordt so gaaf!

Je kunt de eerste foto's snel op Instagram @songsmith2962  vinden.

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!

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

3 - Mediterranean

 Smug in the face of climate change in my delta, I had my sunshade right, bring it on, in Spring 2019 I filled my garden with plants that should be able to cope better with the weather. The sickly Lonicera seemed to have perked up a bit, so I told it to hang on and dragged, pushed and shoved its trellis planter to the most shady corner. That means shade until mid-morning, sun thereafter. I put Nasturtium seeds at its feet for company. And rigged a line between a teepee and the rainpipe for my runner bean to climb. I could already taste the fresh beans, love them. Fired by the urge to grow some more veg, I sowed salad greens, got a tomato and a chilli plant and begged one of my friend's strawberries off him. Along with the herbs that had done very well and a variety of Pelargoniums in the railing planters, my garden looked very different from the first year. I was tempted to get a Musa...better not, that ever blowing wind, eh?

Puck and I installed ourselves on a lounger with book, beer, bone and a bowl of water and watched the veg grow. Every afternoon the jackdaws from the roost at the end of the street would line up on the edge of the roof opposite and stare at us. Puck would stare right back, she's very protective. Swifts swooped, a cuckoo called in the distance, the occasional screeching ringneck parakeet flew past, the slugs held war councils amongst themselves and the bees for some reason lacked.

That previous windstill scorching summer, I had had plenty of bees, hoverflies, wasps, houseflies and, darn it, mosquitoes. So what had happened? Well, there was the wind. We had extreme amounts of wind in 2019. And my Mediterranean collection didn't attract a lot of bees for some reason. In fact, my entire harvest of runner beans, non pollinated, consisted of 1 beautiful bean. Puck and I shared it ceremoniously and pronounced it delicious.

The Nasturtiums did very well, climbing the trellis, and trailing elegantly over the edge of the planter. But the Honeysuckle again dropped all its buds and most of its leaves. Then an unprecedented Summer gale struck. It whipped my Roses, tore off their leaves, gave the Pelargoniums a good shaking, threw over the Fatsia and tomato and made my tiny side table sail away. It landed three floors down and 10 m away at 3 cm from the fender of a Lexus. Some very posh neighbours here. For some reason this particular one was not amused. He screamed at me that I am an irresponsible nutty plantgeek. It sounds even worse in Dutch. So rude!

Okay, I did take better care of storm damage prevention after that. My roses recovered, I was so happy they did. And there was another, very unexpected, little success. When I arrived in this street in June 2018 there were no plants on the balconies. Some folk had artistic Buddhas, most had expensive lounge sets, and there were plastic lavenders and grasses dotted here and there (no doubt weighted down with heavy rocks). But nothing green and alive. Until I noticed in 2019 that on one of the balconies a miniature olive tree appeared (clashing somewhat with that Buddha) and look, on another a couple of tasteful clipped buxus balls. One family even went wild and put two mini palm trees on, hung with solar lights. Not outdone, the man in the flat opposite put down a cheerful planter full of geraniums and sat next to it every evening,  smoking and calling Poland.

See, my darling, I told Puck. Even a drop of water can eventually wear down a rock. All we have to do is show them how lovely real plants are. Puck agreed. She always does, good girl.

You can follow this blog by clicking on the button that says 'Atom. You can also follow me at Instagram @songsmith2962 and @grashoffr

#mediterranean #balconygarden #thedutchdeltagardener #dogs #gales #spreadnaturelove #slowgreen