2025/24 - May flowers, what's not to love?

 Website: Renée Grashoff Schrijft for the latest blog about my novel.

Three days of rain (and one storm unfortunately) and my parched desert garden has rediscovered her oomph!

Even the frog pond has filled again, rescuing my beloved Waterlily from a nasty thirsty death. 

This is the view from the other side. All those aquatic plants you see were wilting in the drying up slush.

My Iris are happy as well, eventhough they were alright with the lack of rain. This is called 'Sultry Mood.

The Bearded Lily was the first to bloom, and is still going strong. I hope the three new ones, babies really, I planted in the border next to my greenhouse in October will be as lovely as this one. Their colour will be a surprise, they didn't come with a label.

This is that border (to the left; to the right is the plot of my neighbour who lets it go to ruin). In spring my border is gorgeous, filled with spring bulbs, but then there is a huge gap until the Hydrangeas start to flower. So I thought to fill the gap(s, literally) with Hemerocallis and Bearded Lily. Smart, eh?

Look who greeted me on that path. There were two, but the other one didn't want to pose. In Dutch this butterfly is called a Kleine Vos (little fox), Aglais urticae. They lay their eggs on nettles, so I make sure I leave them a patch near the rhubarb. They are one of the most common butterflies in my garden, but I am always chuffed to see them.

Sorry, my camera could not deal very well with the glowing white of Schneewitchen... But I wanted to show you anyway. It makes a lovely combination with the Valerian and Nigella, don't you think?

The giant Fennel has self-seeded on both sides of the planter, but I'll leave it. I love the scent, and I save the seeds for cooking, so three are better than one. All plants on this patch are self-seeders, and I let them do their thing.

This Sisyrinchium striatum (Bieslelie in Dutch) or Carex flava, is looking better than ever. Two years ago it struggled to establish, but look at it now, eh?

The Valerian has made itself at home all over the garden, both in red and white.

It tolerated the lack of water. The Aliums did not...they have failed to show themselves, there are only three left. But the spiked leaves of the Crocosmia are promising.

The Heuchera, looking brittle and sad, have rallied. Such a lovely colour, this 'Palace Purple'. I am on the fence about that latest colour to come from the nurseries though, too unnatural.

Here you are, one of the three Aliums in amongst the Sweet William.

And thus ended my gardening, as the next shower blew in very fast on that SW wind...

Have a great weekend, won't you? And check out my website when you have a moment.

Renée Grashoff 

2025/22 - Republished

 It's unnecessary telling you that we have not had rain since mid-February, for I have been keeping you up to date with the lack of water in my part of the world. Time to rename my Dutch Delta? Dutch Desert?

Although on the one hand I am really enjoying the sunny days, by being outdoors for most of the time, gardening, walking, cycling. And sitting out on pavement terraces having coffee. On the other hand I am getting really worried about the water table. In some parts of the Southern Netherlands there is a ban on spraying water on the fields for farmers already. In my part no ban just yet, but I can feel it coming.

Almost dry...

   My frog pond 1000 l. water tank has been empty for over a week now, which is a first for me. Last year it was overflowing due to the months of rain...Now my frog pond just holds some watery slush, and my waterlily is really sad and suffering. 

   Due to rock hard soil I could not plant my seedlings, so in desperation I planted them on the edges inside the frog pond. When those Calendula and Cosmea actually survive, I'll let you know! Who knows, perhaps I'll set a trend.

   On the happy side, some of my established plants are doing fine. They obviously have put their roots down deep enough to get some moisture. But yet... I have been thinking if it might be prudent to change my garden design to cater for those extremely dry spring months we have been having for years now (except for last year, when my garden was under water).

The only things holding me back so far are:

 1. Money (lack of)

2. This is a predominantly veg growing allotment community. I feel hesitant to throw in a load of pebbles and grit.

Mind you, if I owned the plot, I would!!!

Still, I will look hard at my plants this year: which ones hate being in that dry rock hard clay, and which don't mind at all? My roses enjoy their pots so far.

I adore looking closely at my Alliums, they are so pretty!

And so are the Iris.

The Artichokes are dwarfing the Salvias as usual. And the Clematis is growing outward instead of upward, it seeks the light.

I am so happy with my yellow Raspberry, it is doing very well. The Redcurrant behind it seemed dead, but I pruned it very short and now it is growing again. But oh my, look at how dry everything is, the grass is scorched.

The Daisy and Campion in the orchard are enjoying themselves.

Right. Time for a coffee for me, and perhaps for a second one for you. If you are curious about my website, here is the link: Renée Grashoff Schrijft

I'll leave you with an overview of Hunky Dory from the back. Have a great weekend, wherever you are!

Renée Grashoff 

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