2026/7 - Tricky Times

 It is the 3rd of February today (writing and actually posting do not happen on the same day, as I'm sure you'll understand), and we are at that point when nature seems to be shaking off the winter fast.

Puck is feeling the approach of Spring as well, and wants to sniff out the balcony...just to make certain all is still as she wants it to be.

But appearances can deceive...Yes, in my neighbourhood the snowdrops are showing, and some even have buds, and just look at the buds on that plant in the photo with Puck! But experience tells me we could still have frost and snow in the weeks ahead.

And the many buds on my pretty absinthe plant could all freeze.

It's too late for my Pelargoniums, I'm afraid. In the previous very mild Winter they happily grew on, and saved me a lot of money, but this year they are as dead as doornails.

I simply have nowhere to store them at home  over Winter, and carting them all to my greenhouse is too much work and useless anyway, as it is unheated.

Oh well...it gives me the opportunity to sow some different plants for the balcony planters this year.

I do have something special though...no filter used! This is the third time I witnessed the Northern Lights this year, and this time I had the brilliant thought I'd take a photograph. The other two times I was so in awe I forgot.

Well, no need for me to fork out thousands of Euros to travel to Lapland, eh? All I need now is for a herd of elephants to appear on the abandoned football field at the end of the street, and a pod of dolphins in the Brielse Meer. 

I drove to Hunky Dory to pick up some chicory and sow some new seeds, and took a quick tour of the garden. Very quick! It was 1°, but the Eastern wind made it feel like -6°. But hey-ho, the bulbs are showing themselves!

Thanks to the rain my frog pond is full for a change, and I hope the resident salamander is fine and sleeping in the mud.

The Helleborus is waking up, no more sleeping for her. She is five years old now, and getting a bit tired. I really should get some fresh ones to keep her company.

The Tradescantia is lighting up that entire corner on the other side of the frog pond. Have you ever seen something that red? In a few weeks I'll give her some support to scramble up against. It blew over in a storm and I haven't got round to it yet.

This baby is holding its own so far. It is a Cyrtomium falcatum, and I simply cannot remember that name, so I call it 'fern', which is not too bad, as it is from the Dryopteridaceae family (niervaren in Dutch). It is a rock plant...so totally out of its comfort zone in my soil. I really should provide it with some crushed brick or something! I'd love to build it a brick folly, so it could hang down gracefully...and be the belle at the wall, so to speak. But as I garden on an allotment, that is out of the question.

My other fern, nameless, is also still alive. Totally out of place as well, but I pamper it with my leafmold and put sticks around its base, hoping that it gets tricked into thinking it is in a forest.

I bought 3 little Cyclamen this afternoon, but could not face that wind on the balcony. Tomorrow should be better, so I'll put them properly into a pot then.  They are so sweet!

Alrighty, this is it for this week. Do look me up at my website Renée Grashoff Schrijft, where I hope to have some exciting news about my second part of the trilogy about murder in Brielle soon. I cannot wait myself, and I hear from some of you that you cannot either, which is pretty cool!

Take care!

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 

2025 /44 - Absolutely Autumn

 'With a blister on my finger, got a blister on my thumb', to paraphrase Dire Straits. This morning I tackled my dried out Artichokes, and it was hard work. But very satisfying!

What do you miss here? Right! There is a void where the Artichokes used to be. Until this year my habit was to leave them until February/March, and then cut them. But this year that drought killed them off, and the storms blew them over, so I thought away with you. Those stems, as thick as an axe handle, are almost as tough as tree branches, hence the blisters.

I should have removed those unsightly ropes (needed to keep the plants somewhat upright after that storm) before I took the photo, forgot, sorry.

The weather today is pretty good! So the bumblebees were out in force, making the most of it. This huge, chubby one on the Aster was over 2cm, and happy as Punch.

 I met quite a few creatures; a large brown toad scuttled away from me, a blackbird took no notice of me at all whilst using the frog pond to bathe, and one of the resident brown rats took one look at me and then shot under my waterbutt.

The neighbouring Fig Jungle is producing lots of ripe figs. Most of them are too high for me to reach, and get eaten by birds and insects, but some I eat. And they are wonderful! Figs, in the delta...unbelievable. The scent is gorgeous.

My side border is a mix of spent Hydrangeas and very cheery Hebe and Asters. That Hebe is looking blergh all through Summer, but comes into its own in Autumn. I keep telling my plants to keep off the path, but they don't listen...

That Pampus grass, Cortaderia selloana 'Pumila' has turned into a giant! It is over 3 m high. And can you spot my yellow Heliopsis? The only survivor of the five I planted last year. The hanging plant in the white pot is struggling, but I give it a chance with the rains that we are promised by the end of this week. Normally we get enough rain for it to survive without me watering it.

My favourite colour blue. But this Salvia uliginosa has not done well this year. I need to get some fresh plants.

I am very satisfied with this Lathyrus latifolius though! I keep hearing this year was a terrible one for lathyrus, but mine has done quite well. I did water it religiously though, and deadheaded practically every day. It is perennial, so I am already looking forward to next year.

Better late than never...I suppose. The Cosmea were trouble right from the moment of sowing. I was in Rucphen last weekend, and saw entire verges with them, and thought 'What? How?'. Mine were on the cusp of withering away all summer long, despite watering. But they've had more rain in Noord-Brabant. My delta has been the driest area of the entire country, in the second driest year in living memory.

Next to the frog pond are the only summer bulbs that have flowers. I am quite upset: planted 5 different kinds and only these ones have flowered. The rest just produced a mass of leaves. Bummer!

Talking of leaves, this pretty scrambling Houttuynia cordata has removed itself from the planter and is now silently walking along the path towards the frog pond. I let it do its thing, much too pretty to pull it out. And I should cherish those plants that conquer my rock hard clay!

Okay. I have told you about all my climbers against my shadow nook-without-shadow dying on me for three years in a row, right? Well, today I planted a bell Hops. I found it next to my path, and listening to the herb lady wisdom that wild plants come to find you when you need them, I carefully dug it up and planted it in the nook. Fingers crossed that this one will survive, ramble away, and give me my much needed shade in summer! My neighbour says it is a thug, well, bring it on!

I'll leave you with a photo of the clubhouse of the Heemtuin in Rucphen. I am doing a six week medicinal herbs course there on the Saturdays. Beautiful garden, which I hope to be able to actually photograph. 

Have a great weekend, wherever you are, and do take a look at my website if you are in the mood for more blogs at Renée Grashoff Schrijft

 

2025 /43 - Autumn is in the air again

 The morning being lovely balmy and quiet, I took my secateurs and myself to Hunky Dory, to finish what I started yesterday - pruning the spent flowers, and the removal of all those pesky Solidago.

There's this 'thing' about Solidago: I like it for its cheerfulness, but only in the right spot. And that plant walks all over my garden, settles in all the wrong spots and makes itself at home. If I had got a Euro for every plant I pulled out over the last 4 years, I could afford a larger apartment. Or publish at least 10 more novels! So yes, I regret planting it.

Here is another wanderer. But in this case, it reminds me of J.R.R. Tolkien: "Not all that wander are lost." This Nasturtium can go walk-about to its hearts content! Every time I see it, it lifts my mood. It will go on until the first night frost, and then die overnight.

The allotments being deserted, I took a peek at the garden of my neighbour at the back of my plot, who has gardened there for more than 60 years. He is very much into veg, but we share many a conversation about my love of flowers, which he appreciates too, especially my Lilies. He planted these Courgettes, aren't they fun?

Me having managed to grow just one Cucumber this year, I was a bit sad to see his being abandoned a bit. I suspect he had that many that he can't eat them all.

I pruned my Elaeagnus ebbingei again. Now that I have done it twice, those bare branches are beginning to stand out, don't you think? Whilst I was doing it, my head was 'buzzed at' by many, many bees. They love the tiny cream flowers of this shrub, they do smell amazing, I must say. So far I have never been bitten, it is as if they recognise me as 'harmless'.

I do hope those hornets which are colonising my country from the south upwards pass by though! They sound quite tricksy.

The few showers we have had last week, have done this Artichoke a lot of good. Most rain has passed us by though...More is predicted for this afternoon, well...promises, promises.

Last year, my garden was a mass of these summer bulbs, Ixia. This extremely dry year, there are only a few, next to the frog pond.

But to my astonishment, the Cyrtomium falcatum not only survived that drought, it took it in its stride! Well, yay!

The Malus has so many apples, it is a miracle that the branches didn't break during that storm we had last week. Actually, I was near breaking point as well! Those 100 km/hr gusts around my balcony were driving me bonkers. I would not do well in hurricane country!

The trees on Brielle ramparts are turning now. It always makes me a bit melancholy. Winter in my part of the delta usually is a very wet, chilly, grey affair. I counter it by masses of bulbs.

The Asters, Michaelmas Daisies, are in full bloom now.

The pink ones are always a few weeks earlier than the white ones though.

The plan was that they would bloom together, hahaha. Best laid plans, eh?

Okay, I'll leave you with one of our national treasures, in autumn attire.

Do follow this blog when you like it, and if you are interested in my website, here is the link: Renée Grashoff Schrijft

The Dutch Delta is Willow country!

Bye bye,

Renée Grashoff