183E - Monsoon / publishing Boerenwormkruid

 Bloody hell, was it a turn around, or what? Almost unbelievable that last Saturday evening I was sitting out on the Middelharnis waterfront in my bare arms, having dinner! This morning I walked Puck in my winter coat, hat and gloves on.

Pelargoniums hate harsh rain showers!

   My balcony plants really had to adjust to the change in weather this week.

   Last weekend I was still enthusing about how marvellous my balcony garden was looking.

   And then it started to rain. And how! Rain that was so heavy, that even my rain loving banana was hanging sadly against the balcony doors, with a demeanour that spoke "if this continues, I want to move back to Jamaica!" The Pelargoniums, who optimistically shook off the water on the first day, simply gave up the second day. All of them. They went on strike and waved their brown banners: "we demand sun".

The little sunshine they got in between all that rain, was refused. Too little, too late.

Wet, wetter, wettest.

 Well, they are drama queens, the Pelargoniums.  I have decided to keep them on the balcony in Winter (haven't dared to tell them yet), but on the ground, not on the railings, so that they are protected from the storms we are bound to get. I'll cover them with fleece if need be.

The other plants were cold and wet too, but did not give in en masse. But I did take my succulents inside, just in case. My Crassula Ovata 'Horntree' for example, who has shared my home for the last six years.

Crassula Ovata.

   It is too precious to me to risk it. I bought it as a teensy-weensy plant, and had to give it a bigger pot each spring.

   My sedum as well, bought nameless, but I believe it is a Spathulifolium, has moved indoors. She looks on the cusp of flowering, which is lovely of course.

   Another plant I got in, is my Clivia. I don't see many Clivias these days, whilst it is a super easy plant to keep. This summer it bloomed on the balcony for weeks and weeks, and it had 6 flower stems. By now she has grown so tall (55cm excl. the roots) that it is hard for me to find her a suitable spot in my tiny flat. But she is not fussy.

I eat tomatoes every day.

The tomatoes are holding on. I hope that the many green ones will get the chance to turn orange! But if not, I'll turn them into chutney.

As you can see, the purple petunias are drooping like wet rags in their planter. According to my 2nd floor neighbour, the rain will cease next week. I sure hope so! September and October can be such lovely autumn months, I wish that for all my fellow pensioners that cannot afford peak season holiday prices.

And now for something completely different

Trichis Publishing B.V. and I have agreed to them publishing my book. The plan is that it will be in the shops in spring 2025. I'm so pleased that it is finally happening! Sorry folks, initially in Dutch. But I wanted to tell you anyway. Absolutely marvellous, absolutely exciting and a little scary as well. But, as Mark Twain said: "Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great." And also: "Don't part with your illusions. When they are gone you may still exist, but you have ceased to live."

Thanks, Mark, you were a very wise man.

Have a lovely weekend!

Renée 

181E - Almost Autumn, really, whatever they might say.

 Whilst it is 27°C in my living room ( I am writing this on Wednesday) I notice by just looking around me that the summer of 2024 is sliding into Autumn. Do I mind? Mwah, not really. Can't complain about our summer in the end.

A bit late, but very welcome!

   It started too late, was too cold and too wet, but from the 2nd week of July onwards we suddenly had glorious weather.

   My struggling plants revived extremely fast. Except the Canna...But she is making up for it now, don't you think?

   Where I notice that autumn is sneaking up on me, is in the early mornings. At 6 a.m. it is still dark enough for the streetlights to be on, and I need to put on a coat again!

   The trees in my neighbourhood, mostly summer oaks, willows and lime trees, are showing quite a few yellow leaves, dropping their leaves as well.

The balcony blooms on happily.

   This morning I spotted the first toadstools in the grass...

   So yes, it is inevitable, we are slip-sliding into Autumn.

    Hunky Dory shows it as well. The asters are in full colour and my autumn bulbs are showing themselves. I noticed that the Ixia bulbs I had planted in a nice pot on the balcony have not done a thing, growl.

Bulbs that do not come up: it should be against the law.

Knit one, purl one.

As you can see on the right, I repaired the dried up willow planter. Can I be bold and warn you not to throw away your money on these? Within two years they have dried up completely and fall apart. Useless.

But I AM very happy with what's inside. My son had gifted me a yellow raspberry, which is now bearing fruit, yay!

The red current in the planter behind it, isn't doing much yet. Perhaps next year, now that I have used organic fertiliser. Red currants are my favourite berries.

The yellow raspberry

    

   Something completely different 

   As you may have read (and if not, well, here it is) I am busy self-publishing a book. It was supposed to be titled 'Murder at Rust Roest' (Dutch for 'do not be idle'), but I found out that another book called Rust Roest was published very recently. I could not believe my eyes! I hastened to check I wasn't robbed (call me suspicious), but no, simply a stupid coincidence. With stress on stupid: I mean, what are the odds?

Anyway. So now my book has a new title: Boerenwormkruid (Tansy). You are my witnesses! Self-publishing is a doddle, they tell you, well, so far not so much. I'll spare you the details, but perhaps I will use the story in a new book.

Have a lovely weekend!

Renée