2025/35 - Oh boy, despite the rain it is still like Timbuktu...

 We have had a week of lower temperatures, a wagonload of wind and some rain. But Hunky Dory is still as dry as a desert. It is a bit disheartening, I must admit.

It made for gorgeous cloudy skies; this is Brielse Meer at sunrise last week. But that rain mostly fell in the North and East of my country and bypassed us. I can't get a spade in my concrete soil. My plants (the Kiwi!) are frazzled. Some have died. My grass has turned to dust.

Mind you, this is the natural state of my drumstick Aliums. I like them even when dried out, very architectural.

But look at this corner...The colour says it all, doesn't it? Parched!

Even the Tansy, which is tough as old boots, is so dry...

So is it all Doom 'n Gloom? Of course not! My darling Desdemona is looking gorgeous next to the Gaura. I deadhead religiously.

And the Zinias are happy behind the Sedum, which is on the cusp of turning rose pink.

The pink bed is doing its best to stay pink, despite being very thirsty. But look at my grass...It is a good thing that I know it will perk up as soon as it has had a lot of water!

The border next to the greenhouse does get watered regularly; it is the only way I can keep my Hydrangeas alive. It is next to the massive Fig Jungle of my never present neighbour,  so when I tend to it, I am in the middle of a cloud of fig perfume. Oh, how I wish I could bottle that scent! So lovely! Mind you, the wasps think so too... So I am careful not to piss them off.

At home, in the balcony garden, I need to keep watering daily, otherwise it is over and done with. The many Pelargonium are fine, but all the more dainty flowering plants are gasping. The Cucumber has not produced a single cucumber! But: not all is lost there either. The Tomatoes are doing reasonably well. The cherry one has kept me in extremely tiny fruit, my Strawberries were larger! But the yellow Zebra one has done very well! The fruit tastes lemony, very fresh. Utterly unsuitable for cooking though, you need to eat them raw.

Aren't they lovely?! 

This is the star of the show at the moment: the Portulaca. I will try to keep it for next year by taking it indoors as soon as the nights turn cold again. Last year I forgot, and it turned to mush at the first frost, silly me.

Okay, time to walk Puck. My rescued doggie is getting old! She has good days and not so good days, and despite being a Curaçao dog, she suffers from the heat. I'll see what day she is having today. This morning was fine, she wanted to chase the street cat (not allowed) and a Blue Heron (not allowed either) and then sulked a bit until it was breakfast time.

Sulking face!

Have a good weekend, wherever you are.

Renée Grashoff 

2025/34 - The Dog Days of 2025

 This part of Dutch Delta Summer is supposed to be the hottest of the season. Typically, we are having a slump in the Summer weather...It is mostly dry over here (not so much in the Eastern part of the Netherlands), but cool and windy.

Keeping myself amused

   I always plan some non-gardening projects for the Summer holidays, as most people I hang out with go on holiday and I am left to my own devices.

   But being a floweraholic, I couldn't help myself! The Nasturtiums in Hunky Dory have shrivelled up during those super hot weeks, but I noticed they are reviving now, the ones in the shade of bushes that is. I decided to paint them on a stool, as a sort of magic spell to help them grow on.

  

  Meanwhile I mowed my grass pathways yesterday. I say grass, but dust is more accurate. The soil is bone dry.

Still, I have confidence that grass will revive. I ended up with dried bits of plant everywhere, at home I even found them in my underclothes.

Wasps

I suspect there is a wasp nest near my plot, as my Fennel was buzzing with wasps. To be honest I am wary of them, but these were so busy feeding they did not take a blind bit of notice of me. There is supposed to be an invasion of Asian 'hoornaars' (hornets) in my country, but as far as I could tell there were none on my Fennel. They are exotics and not welcome. But how can you stop a flying insect from crossing borders?

The bumble bees kept their distance from the wasps and concentrated on the Echinaecea, Scabiosa and Artichokes.

I know they use the Artichoke flowers as hammocks in the night, clever things.

When I had finished mowing, I sat in my chair for a while, just looking at the plants and clouds sailing by. How you can live your entire life without being interested in plant life is beyond me. However stressed I am, the moment I enter the allotments I feel the anxiety levels drop. And by the time I go home, I am completely calm. Sweaty and dirty, but calm.

My chair is hidden behind the Hedera, Solidago and water butt. I can pretend I am in my private jungle there.

To my right is my pitiful frog pond. It resembles more of a meadow at the moment, there is even a wild Carrot growing in the middle. Mind you, I did meet a tiny frog whilst mowing, so perhaps there are frogs in there after all. And the Papyrus seems happy enough.

The yellow Crocosmia is swamped by the Bergamot. It is later than the red Crocosmia, who are spent by now.

The Zinias are doing their best. These ones (in partial shade) look a lot better than the ones in full sun, who are not even in bloom yet.

Sooooo happy with my perennial Lathyrus. After a slow start it is now really climbing up that obelisk, and has almost reached the top.

The other one, white with a pink blush, is out competed by the grapevine. And being in the shade of the Artichokes does not help either. But I'll leave it there, perhaps it will do better next year.

My pink bed looking pink. See that 'grass'? Golly!

How something so tiny can smell so sweet! The Elaeagnus Ebbingei is in bloom, and I swear it is like being in the perfume department of a store. I have said it before, if you are looking for an easy going shrub, pick this one! It even thrives in my conditions.

The bottle is prevention against me poking my eye out.

My Puck is getting old. She has not been able to jump on the bed (90cm high) since last summer. Can you imagine my surprise when she jumped up yesterday? She lay there for hours enjoying herself, and then couldn't get down... I had to lift all 27 kilos of her, and I received her ESP message loud and clear: "for fuck's sake don't drop me!"

I did not.

Okay, this is it for this week. Do follow this blog if you like it, and you can always look me up on my website Renée Grashoff Schrijft

Renée Grashoff 

2025/33 - A Ban on Barren Balconies!

 I live in an apartment, on the top (3rd) floor, with a view that is marred by another (1 floor higher) apartment. For a person that craves greenery, and felt like a fish living in a fish bowl when I first moved here, putting up a green plant barrier was my first priority!

My  South facing balcony was furnished sooner than my living room, I swear.

There was a lot of trial and error involved in the first few years, I can tell you. For example the wind...This being the Dutch Delta, we have a LOT of it, and it only seems to become heavier.

Mistake nr.1: most cottage plants (which I adore and are my go-to plants) do not like the combination of the scorching sun and that heavy wind. They struggled. Sometimes died.

Mistake nr.2: shade loving plants don't either.

Mistake nr.3: my effort to cover the two side walls with climbers. The wind tore them down.

BUT! Many Mediterranean plants are very happy on my balcony. They just need some TLC during the long wet winters we have over here. 

My neighbours witnessed my efforts and wisely shook their heads. No use putting plants up there, it won't work, they said. Please make sure those planters will not go flying and land on our cars, they moaned (to be fair, in one storm one plant did take a nose dive, but luckily it landed in the middle of the street). Don't you get tired of dragging all that soil up there, they asked.

Me being a stubborn sort, I kept doggedly explaining it could be done, it was only a case of using the correct plants. And yes, I would be mindful of their cars. And besides, in my opinion, having a balcony devoid of plants is bad, but putting plastic ones on (in vogue when I arrived in 2018) is sacrilege. That was usually the point when they raised their eyebrows and left me to it.

Trial and error

Through trial (lots of it) and error (sigh), I slowly learned which plants survive my balcony conditions and which plants even thrive on them. Like Pelargoniums. Not quite my favourite plants, but hey, beggars etcetera. And they have grown on me, I must admit. 

I built a trellis planter and after a hesitant start my Clematis now covers it and is up to the top of it (2m). Last year I chanced a Pandorea, and not only did it survive the winter, but this year it has joined the Clematis at the top.

Slowly, it took years, but surely, more and more balconies in my block turned green! I am so very happy with that!! I call it the zwaan-kleef-aan method (a Dutch expression about swans that makes no sense whatsoever, but means that if one sheep has crossed the bridge, the others will follow).

Most neighbours have gone trendy, putting expensive Olive trees and Trachycarpus on, and I am still the only one with railing planters, but still! It is a victory over barren desert concrete balconies!

Yay!!

And I grow tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, lettuce, strawberries, and spinach on the balcony as well. Amongst the herbs and flowers. Last year I grew potatoes. Why not?

There is a tiny pond for the birds to drink out of (don't tell Puck, she thinks it is her private drinking bowl), with flowering plants in it that thrive. I get visited by many birds, and one of the Jackdaws left me a pretty green pebble, smack in the middle, in front of my door. You can see it next to the jolly tortoise above.

Absolutely, dragging up all those bags of soil is a slog. And dragging down the bags of spent flowers and soil is as well. But the men opposite me (expats, that block is full of expats working in the industry) cannot ogle me any longer, instead they see a lovely balcony garden. Puck can enjoy herself stealing strawberries and barking at the dogs and cats passing below on the street. (She's not allowed to bark too long, and she solves this problem by coming indoors to bark, all the while looking at me for approval)

So. Do you have a balcony? Make it green! You will do the neighbourhood and yourself a favour.

By the way, I will paint that concrete soon. Just building up the courage...all those plants will have to be moved indoors. Oh dear.

Have a great week, wherever you are.

Renée Grashoff 

2025/32 - Ponds, essential holes in the ground

 You are well aware that I am struggling with my frog pond, 'cause I have moaned about it often enough, right?

Whether it is the freakish weather, or that I have a leak, I simply cannot keep it filled up to the water level I need to keep my Waterlily happy.

In February, sure, no problem then! By then it is full of leaves that have blown in from the trees along the road which runs in between the city moat and the allotments.

Here it looks alright, happy Waterlily, but only because I filled it from the water butt just before taking the photo. I cheated.

Same. This was July 2023.

This year that water butt was empty by the end of April, and it has not filled up since. I keep the tap permanently open now, so every measly drop that falls onto my greenhouse roof gets transported straight down the gutter, through the butt and into the frog pond. It keeps a couple of inches of water in there. Enough to keep my salamander and plants alive, but not enough for the Waterlily. She lives, but has not produced one single bud this year. Sod it.

Now here is a pond! 

I visited the Open Garden event organised by Groei & Bloei, a gardening society in my country, and had the pleasure of walking around two ponds in one garden in Oostvoorne.

The lady of the house had 'done' the 2 hectare garden herself, she said off-hand, as if this was achieved between breakfast and lunch one day.  She owns the field to the right as well, and has an arrangement with a neighbour who keeps his sheep there. "Just to make sure no-one gets it into his head to build there", she stated. The garden is only 4 years old, but it looked as if it had been there for 40. Huge trees ("I was lucky those trees were already there"), good landscaping, beautiful borders with gorgeous plants. The white and black ducks were 'pets', and helped her keep the garden free of slugs and snails. They live in a coop (pen?) next to the pond. It rained (it has finally started raining, folks), but did I care? Nope!

And here is the other one. You cannot spot it, but on the other side slightly to the left there is a boardwalk for lounging on and a swim ladder, you know, to swim to this pebbled beach? And then lounge some more?

She has been very clever to oh so tastefully repeat the planting on both sides of this beach. A variety of high and low Echinaecea. My camera (old mobile phone) does not do justice to the jewel colours of those flowers. I could have dug them up and taken them to Hunky Dory, wet leaves and all. In fact, if it had not started to pelt down with rain a moment later, I could have stretched out on that beach and stayed for an hour.

What a garden! She used the dug out soil of those ponds to make mounds, on top of which there were fruit trees. So the garden was uncharacteristically hilly (no hills around this delta), and just restful lawn, colourful borders and the two huge ponds, surrounded by age old beaches and willows.

Paradise!

To me, with my tiny flat and my parcel of allotment, and my faulty frog pond, it showed how other people manage to live. Am I envious? Truthfully? A teensy weensy bit. Just of the garden, mind, not the lifestyle. But hey, I have this view every morning.

It is the dammed river Brielse Maas, re-named Brielse Meer (meer = lake), that flows at the end of my street (until it meets that stupid dam).

My little patch of prairie. Those grasses become waist high! Occasionally I spot a roe deer, or if I am extremely lucky a beaver. They cross from the Brielse Meer to the small waterway near it, to nibble on the trees there. I once came across one who had just climbed out of the Meer and was strolling along the grass path, not a care in the world. Until it saw Puck and me, and then legged it to safety. And believe me, a beaver is large and it can run! My dog was so flabbergasted that she did not even bark, just stood there.

This is Puck's "what's goin' on?" look.  

So. I started with ponds and I end with my doggie.

Have a lovely weekend, wherever you are!

Renée Grashoff 

2025/26 - Extremes all over the place

 After a week of rain and low temperatures, Wednesday was an in-between day. It started rainy, chilly and extremely windy, and ended sunny, and then suddenly a massive rainshower and sunny again. Our weather is all over the place...Because today, Friday, it was 20°C at 05.33 (I know, 'cause Puck told me she needed walkies NOW), and it is expected to reach 32° by the afternoon. Followed by a massive thunderstorm, so I need to get my planters down from the railings of the balcony.

My neighbour took precautions and cut off all his Peonies, but had overlooked this one. It was hiding itself on my side of the plot.

Meanwhile that wind was strafing my plants. Okay, everything is now green instead of parched, but wind dries out plants too, so I still have to water the pots! I took Puck, never a good idea, she is not a natural gardener.

The dominant colour is green at the moment, as most plants are not at the flowering stage, and the spring blooms have finished. But my fern has survived, which is great.

The Cosmea is growing, almost hiding the Geranium from sight.

This Lily is still going strong.

And so is Schneewitchen. The other three roses have finished, but I know they will get a second blooming.

And suddenly the perennial Lathyrus has taken off. It is Lathyrus Latifolius 'Pink Pearl', and did nothing since I planted it two months ago. But now it is growing, yay! It has competition from the grape next to it. Not ideal, but I thought that grape had vanished.

 I think this photo illustrates the prairy feeling of the back of my garden, next to the compost heaps. There Salvias and Phlomis compete with tall grasses that have blown in from the verge on the other side of the ditch. I see the majority of insects in this part of the garden, so I leave the grasses and only weed if absolutely necessary.

Another plant I thought had perished: my yellow Digitalis grandiflora. It is there, hurray!

It is hard to believe that Pinus on the left was only 15cm high 4 years ago. It is taller than me now, more than 1.70cm. In a year or so it will have outgrown the Artichokes. They took a real battering this week, lots of their fronds have wind damage. 

Talking about that...half of my apples have blown down.

One of the many Ladybirds on the Artichokes. This is an exotic, and not many of our native ones are around I'm sad to say.

This morning I felt a burning pain in the cuticle of my ringfinger, so I thought 'thorn?'. But it turned out to be a Ladybird larvae. Man, they have jaws! It hung from my cuticle so I had to pull it off, and then the cuticle stung and bled as if a beastie much larger had bit me!

This is it. The Fourteen-spot Ladybird. In future I'll look differently on my Artichoke guests, I can tell you!

A sweet little Campanula.

Since not only thunder but also hail is predicted for tonight, I took a photo of my balcony garden for you, before it will be ruined.

Puck is pretending she hasn't spotted the three ripe Strawberries, but as soon as my back is turned, she will steal them.

Have a good weekend wherever you are!

Renée Grashoff