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.

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 

2025/38 - And suddenly Autumn is in the air!

 The summer of 2025 has been both lovely and a tad frustrating for the gardener in me. Lovely because we enjoyed a lot of sunny, hot days, great for the soul. Frustrating because the rainy days we've had since February (!) can be counted on less than ten fingers. And it shows!

The trees are dropping their leaves already, and at an alarming rate. When Puck and I do our daily rounds, they crackle beneath our feet. The bushes are drying out, so blackberries shrivel up before they can be eaten. So I worry. I worry about our lovely summer Oaks which line our streets. I worry about the hedgehogs. And I get frustrated with the desert that my garden has become by now.

This was my Yellow Raspberry on Sept.1st 2024. This year I picked the last fruit (which was scant but lovely) on August 2nd. And its leaves are yellow by now, eventhough I have watered it. The Redcurrant next to it has shrivelled up and died. Oh my giddy aunt! Where will this end?

This was at our 06.00 morning walkies, and you can see the leaf litter under the trees. Still. Puck enjoyed her sniff very much, thank you, and afterwards I hurried to Hunky Dory to water the pots.

Where I was welcomed by this sight. There are worse ways to die than on a flower in the night, I suppose. Its mates were busily zooming around visiting the other Scabious, no one paid it the slightest bit of notice. Poor thing. But it lives on in this blogpost.

Well. Will you look at that?! Sowing the seed in the greenhouse (2 packets!) watering it, singing to it, mollycoddling it, then rescuing the survivors from scorching by putting them in a pot, where they could at least try to survive outside. Because I watered it daily. Sigh. And what do you get? One flower. More to come, at least three more...out of 2 packets. Sometimes this gardening lark is an exercise in humility.

But at least my Hydrangeas were grateful for the water. They are going over now, but have been valiantly looking good.

Is it all sad then? Of course not! This wonderful Papyrus is looking great despite its feet now standing in almost dried out slush. And so is its family, which is colonising the north side of the frog pond. I honestly think it is one of the most attractive reeds there is, especially now that it is getting its autumn colour.

The Malus and Sedum are turning as well. I think this is Sedum 'Herbstfreude', but I am not quite sure as I got it from a gardener who wanted to get rid of it and the others that live in my garden now.

Naturalistic planting

This photo is a good example of how my naturalistic planting in the 'hot bed' is evolving. The hottest plants (blood red Crocosmia) have now turned to seed, the Yellow Achillea, which scorched, is not giving up, but the Carex grass is definitely trying to take over the entire bed. Let me tell you, it looks easy, and when you get it just right it looks bloody amazing, but it is not easy at all! That Carex was a mistake for starters.

But I'll leave you with the first Aster novi-belgii that has come out. I have many kinds in the garden, and they, believe it or not, are looking absolutely fine so far. So I am looking forward to a colourful month of September at least! 

Despite the terrible drought this has been a good summer. I will pickle the last courgette today, eat the last of my Yellow zebra tomatoes and have a few purple Plums. I hope you'll have a good weekend!

Do follow this blog if you like what I write, and there is a new blogpost on my website about a couple of meet-and-greets for when you happen to be in the area: Renée Grashoff Schrijft

Renée Grashoff 

2025/30 - Some you win, some you lose...

 July, true Summer, and my garden has exploded. This year the Crocosmia I planted three years ago have decided they would finally show what they are capable of. Finally my 'hot border' looks hot instead of lukewarm.

Needless to say I am very happy. The Lilies (both dark red and deep orange) are doing well too. But where is the gorgeous burnt sienna Alchemilla? Vanished. The yellow one is still there, but has hardly grown.

I planted the orange one behind the broom. Oh well.

The Clivia is much happier now that she is partly in the shade of the Silver Pine, and the dark red Heuchera is blooming. But I realised, whilst mowing my grass paths, that that part of my path is disappearing under the growth of that tree... placing my circle in the middle no longer in the middle. Beginner's mistake.

My neighbour has pulled his onions. There is something deeply satisfying in a harvest, I think, even if it is not my own! Lovely glaucous greenery.

Despite some leaf wilting affliction my Buddleia are blooming happily. And the Echinacea are wonderful.

I adore them! Those Fibonacci spirals!

And they make a lovely contrast with the drumstick Aliums. My pink/purple border definitely lives up to its name now.

Mind you, the yellow one does its best as well. I decided to make use of the rampant Solidago and planted a Fennel, not knowing that that Fennel would be equally as rampant. But it has quite a nice effect, don't you think?

The other corner of my plot is a mix of yellow and purple, so that it then morphes into the purple border. There is method in my chaotic madness ;-)

My daily watering of the Hydrangeas has paid off, they are not wilting despite the dry soil in that border. But I think that self-seeded red Currant will have to go... it is too near the path.

My efforts of hiding the useful but ugly water butts are paying off. My other neighbour told me he has used the seed of my special red Lily, and it has come up in his garden. That's so cool.

Okay, I'll leave you with a pic of my Rose. It is in its second bloom, has a lovely scent and was anonymous. Have a lovely weekend, and if you are curious about my author website, here is the link: Renée Grashoff Schrijft

At 07.00 a.m., when the sun suddenly hid itself.