2026/12 - Misty March Mornings

 Here in the Dutch Delta we are used to moisture: rain, and fog. Especially in March misty mornings are no exception. You know the ones I mean, where you get wet eventhough it does not rain. In fact you sometimes get wetter from mist than from rain...honestly.

My daffodils are in full splendour, mist or no mist. But the rest of nature always goes very quiet. There is no wind, and even the moorhens are less noisy than usual. I took a quick peek to see if they have started their nestbuilding yet, and yes, they were busy dragging reeds and small branches to their favoured spots. The graceful swans, who also use the Veste to build their nests, were ignoring them. They think the feisty moorhens beneath them.

When I took this photo, I noticed some yob had dumped his beer cans in my garden. I mean to remove them next time I visit Hunky Dory. Why do people feel they can do things like that? As an author I am forever and endlessly fascinated by human behaviour, but that doesn't mean I like my garden being treated so carelessly!

 My roses are sprouting fresh leaves, this one is the Schneewitchen, a pure white climber. I like it so much, I have bought one for my balcony as well. 

The Helleborus, being very pretty next to the frog pond. I had promised it some friends, but did not see any in the nursery yet.

The Euphorbia is showing her lime green flowers next to the Artichokes. I had meant to divide this clump, as it is getting rather large, but the soil being cement-like until mid-november,  I did not get round to it. I'll have to see if I can still do it now.

For the last couple of days I have had a nasty cold...not bad enough for me to take to my bed, but going to Hunky Dory in the freezing wind was a bridge too far. So you will have to make do with what is currently showing colour on my balcony.

These grape hyacinths are into their 6th year now. Very hardy little bulbs.

And these huge grape hyacinths keep coming up faithfully as well. They start as rather alien looking things, but they straighten out, and last for ages.

This plant takes everything this winter has thrown at her into her stride! It is great for cut flowers as well, if you don't mind the wonky stems. I mistakenly told you it is Alsem (or absinthe), but it is actually an Anthemis maritima. Whatever the name, it is lovely this early in the year.

In the green pot in the background is my lettuce. I buy this at the supermarket (no lettuce yet in my greenhouse, but working on it!), with a plug of soil attached. I then eat the lettuce and plant the plug, and eh presto, a new lettuce grows. Great value for money!

This morning at 06.15. Well yes, head cold or not, my Puck needs to be walked! I can't tell how glad I am about it getting light in the early mornings!!

Right. Have a great weekend, wherever you are, and do visit my website at Renée Grashoff Schrijft or subscribe to my newsletter by leaving me your e-mail address.

Renée Grashoff
 

2026/11 - Peaceful Pruning

 Suddenly the weather has turned into practically perfect. Lovely! Everyone has started spring cleaning, my neighbourhood echoed with the sound of drills and power saws. All those boys have come out to play with their toys. So I fled to Hunky Dory for some peace and quiet, and for the pruning of my tiny orchard.

I have been brutal! Perhaps a little too brutal...we'll see what happens. The apples are so-so anyway, I cannot ruin much about those trees I inherited from the previous allotmenteer.

But it was great to be able to take off my coat and sweater, and chop for an hour. The birds were chirping away, wonderful.

I put half of the branches on my dwindling woodpile next to the frog pond, and the other half on the compost heap. I know the latter is not ideal, it will take years for those branches to disappear. But I simply have nowhere else to put them. Although...I am contemplating making a dead hedge from them. I do have space underneath my rickety wooden fence. And I know small mammals and birds love those hedges to hide in. Actually, now that I telling you my thoughts, I have decided: a dead hedge is what I will construct!

You know what a dead hedge is, right? No? It is a 'hedge' constructed from cut off branches, by ramming some stakes into the ground (my soil necessitates ramming!). And then you layer the branches in between, so you get a hedge-like structure.

Meanwhile I saw that some of the insects had woken up. A yellow butterfly danced past; they are always the first ones to appear. We  call it citroenvlinder (Gonepteryx rhamni) and for me the sight of it means yes, finally, winter is on its last legs!

But I spotted a few Ladybirds as well, a very welcome sight. I do have to be careful of their larvae though...last summer I turned out to be allergic to their bite/venom. My hand swelled up until it resembled a baseball glove.

Happy, happy. My many daffs make me very happy.

As do these primulas. They are a bit nibbled, but never mind. They brighten up this patch of border until the large swathes of daffs kick in, and the early bees love them.

I planted the tall stemmed variety next to the frog pond, but they have disappeared...You know, if I received a Euro for every plant I put in this garden which has simply disappeared, I would have no money problems anymore!

This Teucrium I took from my balcony to Hunky Dory last October, thinking hey ho, I will see what happens. And wow, not only did it survive those weeks of frost, but it is now starting to flower along with the bulbs! Absolutely fabulous!

 Oh, I do adore a blue sky!  I will have to do something about my greenhouse though...last Summer all my plants scorched in there. So either I will have to paint the windows with chalk, or I will have to put up shading nets. The latter is probably much more expensive.

It being the third day running with temperatures of 16°C yesterday (March 6th), I could not stop myself from clearing the rest of the balcony and putting the railing planters back up. So you can bin the top half of this blog post; sorry.

My wallflower backs me up! "Why wait", it is shouting, "good times are here!"

Just to put me back on my feet, today started misty with 4°C... Oh well.

Every time I look at my cheerful planters, I feel my spirit lift. Puck is happy as well, she knows that the months where she can wander onto the balcony at will are finally here again. Drinking out of the tiny pond, bliss for her, hahaha.

If you'd like to visit my website, here is the link: Renée Grashoff Schrijft

Take care, wherever you are!

Renée Grashoff 

2026/2 - Hunky Dory Dormant? Not quite!

 January is a month when your garden is dormant, when you live in my part of the world. At least, it used to be. When I was a child, we had night frosts, and often day frosts as well, and sometimes weeks of snow. And if it didn't snow, it would pelt you with freezing rain. But those times are gone! Nowadays, the garden is taking a bit of a rest, sure, but there are lots of plants that do not go to sleep at all.

Take my beloved Desdemona rose for example. She says "what do you mean, it's January?" I always deadhead it, but wait with really pruning until March. This year she is refusing to go to sleep. You can tell by the yellowing leaves that she is a bit confused about it all.

The Malus Red Sentinel which I planted especially for the birds (who ignore it) is hanging on to its apples, and keeps on looking gorgeous. If ever I have the opportunity to move to a house with its own garden again* (instead of keeping an allotment), I will make certain I plant a larger version of this super tree.

* I will need to win the lottery for this.

Going strong as well is this Pyracantha "Teton". I treat it with great respect, as its thorns are so vicious that they pierce my leather gloves with ease. I used to have one that covered the front of my old house, and every year a pair of blackbirds would make their nest in there. They were totally secure, my cats did not dare climb the shrub and brave those thorns.

The Ixia are still blooming all over the garden, they will not give up. But from a pale pink in October, they have gone to a hard pink. It makes them stand out against the brown and green. They spread themselves, I planted 10 bulbs I think, and now they are all over the place, and very welcome.

This 'weed' is pretending it isn't winter either. It belongs to the same family as the Fleabane and can be a terrible thug. I tend to pull it out in Spring, otherwise it would dominate my entire garden, leaving no room for other plants. But now, in winter, I am happy to see it, as it brings sunny joy.

My silver Pinus is showing it is very healthy and happy. Although it is growing at an enormous pace, much too fast for my plot really, I love it. It goes to show you cannot believe all information given on labels...this was supposed to be a dwarf variety suitable for rock gardens. It towers over me already.

They are a bit nibbled, but very welcome all the same, my Primula. They appear in our shops in February, and go as a typical spring house plant, and usually I get gifted one or two. Very much appreciated, as I tend to enjoy them as long as they flower, and then move them into my garden to live on  there.

This shrub has gone through some name changes. I used to know it as Veronica as well as Hebe. It is from New Zealand and tough as old boots. Eventhough I cut it back hard every year, as it is getting much too large for the border it is in, it flowers all year long.

This calendula has self-seeded and doesn't take any notice of the chilly, wet weather. Such a cheerful, dependable little plant. It is a great starter plant for children, as the seed almost always grows successfully. Mind you, the allotment mice love to steal the seeds out of my seed trays, as I have found out to my dismay. So it is a lucky thing the plant spreads itself around.

Another plant I really like, or a shrub really, is the Viburnum Tinus. Very dependable, and it flowers just when you need it to, in the gloomiest, bleakest winter months. This one did not like my cloggy clay much, so it took three years for it to find its feet, but now it grows and it looks lovely. I need to help it a bit against the Artichokes, that is true. I planted that entire bed too close to eachother, not realising that some plants would dominate the others. Those Artichokes! They are the garden bullies, they really are.

Garden ivy, common as muck. But look closely at those glossy leaves, with their lovely veins! I deliberately planted it against my fences, for the birds love to nest in it, and insects use it to hide and hibernate. And when it grows too vigorant, I simply cut it away some. And, also very important in January, it stays stubbornly green. I use it for my Christmas decorations every year as well.

I'll leave you with Puck, as she also brightens up my January days. This was when she was in her prime, she is a lot older and greyer now. Next month she has shared my home for 7 years already. She was an adult when I got her, age unknown, and very traumatised. She will never be a happy-go-lucky dog, but she is a great friend.

Every December she gets progressively stressed out by the fireworks, up to the point where on Dec 31st I cannot drag her out any longer. So she holds her pee until all goes relatively quiet (this year that was at 04.00!) and then we race outside. Every Jan.1st we joke together that now WE will make some noise, but she never does, she is much too polite.

Have a good weekend, wherever you are, and bye bye from Puck and me.

Renée Grashoff 

Have a wonderful weekend, wherever you are.

2026/1 - Have you made your green new year's resolutions?

 Not yet? Well, get a move on, then!

My Regular Readers (yes, capitals, as I do adore you) know that I paint for fun. This was my Christmas card for 2025. But it serves this blog.

Shall I give you a hand? With those resolutions, I mean?

Ooh! I know this means I am skating on thin ice, as most people don't like being told what to do (I am one myself). 

Over here we will be lucky if we can try to skate on thin ice this winter, as climate change means we will probably have no ice at all...but that is totally beside the point.

Hm, on second thought, perhaps it is better when I give you MY resolutions, and you can decide if they suit you as well. Here goes:

1. Despite it being a total disaster, as it has sprung a leak, continue to keep up (= fill up) my frog pond, to help out the animals that use it as their water supply during those freaky dry spring/summer months.

 It houses salamanders, so to fill it in with soil would be a crime, right?! But I know the  birds and the allotment cats and hedgehog use it as well.

2. Keep providing for my bees. 

That means building more bee hotels around my garden, and topping up the wood piles, and making certain there are enough pollen flowers around. This bumble bee was taking a lovely nap in the hydrangea, but for food it is a totally useless plant. The 'old' hydrangeas can stay (planted by my predecessor), but no new ones will arrive!

 

3. Appreciate and tolerate my 'blow-ins', even if they are in an awkward position. 

As this wild carrot was. The hoverflies and other flying insects love these visitors from the grass verges around my plot, so they can stay where they have planted themselves. If it means I cannot maintain my grass paths in the manner I would like, so be it.

4. Tolerate, and try to appreciate, the creepy crawlies of the slimy kind...

I know...hard, isn't it? I am kind of lucky in that many of them prefer to crawl to my neighbour's plot, as he grows lush veggies. But still, when they do munch on my plants, I need to remind myself that they have a functional role to play.

5. Only source new plants from sustainable organic local growers, and don't buy flowers for the house, but only grow them myself.

 This means I no longer have shop-bought blousy bouquets in winter to cheer myself up...Mind you, my house is chock-a-block with (flowering) houseplants, so I do satisfy my green itches.

6. Plant more roses.

Oh dear. This is a very selfish resolution, I am afraid. I cannot help myself, roses are my absolute favourite plant. But I do go to an organic grower to get them, promise! And I try to propagate them myself.

Right. Six resolutions are enough to be getting on with, I think.

I do wonder what this new gardening year will bring. Hopefully it will not be as dry as 2025! My garden really struggled, and consequently so did I. But I try to follow the climate as it dictates...if it means a different (more drought-tolerant) garden, then so be it. Us gardeners go with the flow by necessity, right?

As I am writing this (from my lazy chair at home), I can see a jackdaw really digging into the peanuts I hung up for the birds. So far it has been very mild, with only one night of frost. But jackdaws are opportunists that love a peanut. Whilst it is eating, it keeps a beady eye on me. It looks like a young one, who has not yet learned by experience that is has nothing to fear from me.

Have a good month, a good year, and keep gardening!

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