2025-4 My indoor houseplant jungle

 Most people who struggle past the coats and shoes (the hall is tiny) to enter my sitting room stop, and often gasp. And next they exclaim. The top 3 is: 3. "Oh my, you have a lot of plants", 2. "Plants always die on me" and 1. "You live in an indoor jungle." And yes, I aim to.

Cycas, Orchid and Caladium

   Before I moved to my current appartment I struggled to keep my houseplants alive as well. Central heating and not enough sunlight were the culprits. Because my garden thrived, I was (almost) certain it could not be due to my skills.

   But then I did move, and my floor to ceiling (4m high!) SW facing windows meant my room is flooded with light. In fact so much light that the three orchids I brought with me soon told me they'd had enough of that glare, and would I move them to the tiny darker bedroom, please?

   So I did. And they died anyway. This time I blamed myself, and now know I overwatered them. You live and learn, don't you?

But it is this plant I really want to show you. It is called Medinilla magnifica, or rose grape, and it is from the Melastomataceae family, and comes from the Philippines.

I have never had one, it is quite pricey and I tend to buy my plants when they are still babies or half dead, thus cheap. But this one was a gift. I found out it was bloody difficult to put down somewhere in my already over-full room, as it needs to be able to let those gorgeous bracts hang freely. So in the end I bought it its own plant stairs, which it shares with a coffee plant, a ficus and an amarylis.

It is an epiphyte...oh dear...so...will not like my direct sunlight, right? I think it will be fine by now though, as the sun does not reach my room in midwinter. But I fear I will have to move it to the bedroom by May at the latest.

This is one of my 'bought it as a baby' plants, which has grown and grown, and is by now partially blocking my TV screen. It is called Phlebodium pseudoaureum. Those names! It is a blue fern, just remember that, from tropical South-America. This is an epiphyte as well, but it tolerates my bright room in winter. I have to move it in the summer months as well though...

Mind you, I think plants rather enjoy to be moved from time to time, almost as if they get bored with the same view after a while.

I have already told you about the Chlorophytum comosum a while ago, so I'll skip it for now.

No the one I do want to tell you about, is my Senecio.

Some years ago I bought a small Senecio radicans, or String of Bananas. Except I had no idea what I'd bought, and had to look it up. A succulent, well, that much I knew from its thick stem and waxy thick leaves. So I treated it as my other succulents: right in front of that window, not too much water. It did well and grew and grew. But three repottings later it was not happy any longer. In order to try and please it, I changed its plastic pot for a terracotta one. And then put it outside on the balcony by the end of May.

And will you look at it now😁 Actually, it needs repotting again, but I will wait until May. My plantbook tells me it can produce off-white cinnamon-scented flowers in late spring, gosh, I do hope so! This is a plant my friend from Malaysia shouts about every time she sees it, she says it looks like an alien.

Philodendron and Primula

Alien-looking or not, I adore it.

The last photo is of my promise of spring, the primula.  It reminds me that winter will end, that I will be able to have my early morning walkies with Puck in daylight in a couple of months, that those endless grey skies will clear, that I will be working in my garden again and plant that primula there.

I hope you've enjoyed a peep into my indoor jungle and that you will have a lovely weekend.

Renée 

2025/3 - Don't believe everything you read

 Last week I told you I plan to prune my 'olijfwilg' , or olive willow to you (Elaeagnus Ebbingei), but that I want to make certain I do so in the right season.

The top branches of the olijfwilg

   So I looked up the information on the internet, as one does these days, right? Well, that was quite confusing. Most sites

 (not all, mind) told me to do it twice a year, in February/March and June/July, but "not during the growing season!"

Excuse me? Shrubs do not grow during June/July? News to me!

  Only after looking up at least 6 sites, did I think to look at the label of my olijfwilg, which I had kept.

   

Here you are, proof!

The print is a bit too small, but is says 'pruning in February/March'.

So there you are, you should not blindly follow information you find on the internet.

The last few days we are having thick fog along with near freezing temperatures, so it is not a pleasure to be outside. Foggy conditions are a given so close to the sea. I don't mind walking Puck though, as it makes our early morning walkies quite mysterious. The moorhens are awake at 06.00, and they usually make their presence known by squawking very loudly, and this time my brain registered an oak leaf fluttering up from the grass to a branch. That is weird, I thought stupidly, before I realised it was a tiny treacreeper.

Anyway, because I have nothing new, let alone cheery, to show you here is a photo from last June, again with my olive willow, verbena bonariensis and in the background the monarda.

And I'll finish with my favourite rose.

This is it, Desdemona, in the planter. Just imagine a few of these against my new frame, eh? I can't wait!

Right, have a lovely weekend wherever you are.

Renée 

2025/2 - And We're Off, my garden and me!!

 Last November I promised you that I would resume regular blogs a.s.a. the bulbs would show themselves; they are above ground! Since we had a storm with wind speeds up to 108 km/h in my area yesterday, I visited Hunky Dory this afternoon, to check if all was well. Thankfully it was.

 If you are reading this in the affected areas with snow blizzards or fires in the USA, I am wishing you strength! 

We had 1cm of snow last Sunday and I was over the moon...I cannot begin to imagine what you must be going through over there.

After an hour the rain returned

   When I arrived at Hunky Dory the sun showed itself, hurray!

   So instead of just checking, I actually pulled up my sleeves and tackled the first gardening jobs of 2025.

   I dragged some old artichoke branches to the compost heap, put some old cardboard on for good measure and watered my Spider plants that are living in the greenhouse. Next I topped up the frog pond (the level had dropped despite the rain) and let some water out of my water butts, as they are predicting night frosts for this week. 

   As I told you in blog 1, I am planning to try runner beans, climbing courgettes and climbing pumpkins this year, so I built them a frame. I used some old bright blue plastic rope the old geezer who had the garden before me had left behind in the shed: loathe it, but waste not, want not. Hopefully the greenery will cover that blue stuff pretty quickly.

See? I told you! Bulbs! They are narcisii, paperwhites.

During the winter months I gasp for green shrubs, and my Elaeagnus Ebbingei does not disappoint! From a 30 cm baby it has grown into a thug I now need to curb in its expansion, as it has totally overgrown the path. I will wait until late February and then will lift its canopy, unless it is safe to do it sooner, I must research that.

My kitchen sage is doing well; here you see it enjoying the sunshine.

And so is the rosemary, already starting to bloom! Oh dear, that night frost...

The malus looking pretty

    Last winter the birds had eaten all the tiny apples, but so far they are still hanging proudly.

   Can you see the clouds starting to gather? Always too good to be true, blue skies in January.

But I really wanted to build that frame, so I soldiered on.

And here it is, built in true allotment style from Tonkin sticks and old apple tree branches I cut off last autumn.

Must say I am pretty pleased with my effort. And I can't wait to put the seedlings next to it. But that will have to wait!

The Hellebore next to the frog pond is showing colour. It used to be apricot coloured, but reverted to pink after a year (pissing me off, as I paid a lot of money for it to be apricot). Still, it is very pretty in pink too, and it is just about the first thing to start blooming, so it's forgiven.

Right, this is the last photo for this week. This is in the border next to the greenhouse, and never disappoints. I pruned it quite harshly, but it has recovered and now looks great, giving me a welcoming splash of colour when I arrive at my plot.

Have a lovely weekend!

Renée 

2025 /1 - I love snowy days

 When Puck woke me this morning (06.30, so good dog) we stepped out of the door into a white winter wonderland. And it was still snowing, so my doggy was happy instantly. She adores snow, as do I.

This watercolour is from 2020, I painted it after the last time we had proper snow. 

Puck and I were the only ones out, except for the many waterfowl, who had marched down the path before us, leaving their prints.

But at 8 a.m. the snow had already melted and it had turned to rain, such a shame.

So to cheer myself up, I looked at some old balcony garden photos, from a few years ago. I am already looking forward to the new gardening season, aren't you?

My hands are itching to start, but I know from experience I will have to wait a bit. My greenhouse is unheated. So far my attempts to grow runner beans have been rather feeble, but I'm determined to try again this year, in another spot, and from pots. My clay has thwarted me so far, so this year I will try a new strategy. Why not? I have plenty of large pots.

And look, one of my neighbours grew pumpkins in his raised bed, so I'll try that (again) this year too! And I'd love to attempt one of those weird hanging yellow courgettes. So: the only way is UP! Up from that rock hard summer soil that keeps frustrating a lot of my efforts.

I'll leave you with a photo of what is to come very soon. I cannot wait!

Have a good January, enjoy the snow if you are lucky enough to have it (now don't grumble at me, having months and months of grey skies and rain is no picnic I tell you!).

Renée 

195 - Out with the old, in with the new! 2024-2025

 Well, it depends on where you are, obviously, whether you are reading this in 2024 or 2025. I suspect most of you will be reading it in 2025, so a very happy, prosperous and especially peaceful new year to you!

With my friend

   Whilst the fireworks bombs (it is only 6 pm!) are going off all around my flat, and my poor dog is shivering in her basket, I wonder if you have a load of new year's resolutions. Do you actually stick to them? I can proudly/smugly (take your pick)tell you I tend to do so. But then I am a pragmatist and aren't as stupid as I used to be in my youth, so I only make realistic ones.

   Here goes:

   1. Keep on keeping on not drinking alcohol. 

   I quit in May 2023 and it suits me very well. Mind you, my tolerance for soaks has evaporated along the way, along with my patience.

2. Keep on keeping on with shedding those kilos. Twelve down, three more to go. And Frith are those last three hard!

3. Work hard at making my allotment garden the most insect/ bird/ hedgehog friendly one I possibly can. Since 2024 was an extremely wet year, I hope my bulbs will be okay, and that some of my shrubs will recover from having their feet wet for months on end. Still, I have great plans again, which I will make you a part of as the months progress. So looking forward to that! Which logically brings me to:

4. I'll continue blogging about my garden(s). From time to time I get cold feet, and think who on earth is interested in my boring garden stories, but then I look at where my musings are being read, and I am amazed. Singapore, Hong Kong, Mexico, the USA, the UK, Ireland, and last but not least Belgium.

That pleases me no end. I am happy that you seem to like my garden, tiny as it is, in my damp, windy, wetlands.

Have a wonderful 2025, won't you?!

I'll be seeing you!

Renée 

194 - Reflections on a Dutch 2024

 All in English, this time, as I do not need to tell my fellow countrymen about the past year: they have lived it.

Brielle market place

    For all of you elsewhere in the world, some thoughts. My thoughts. I don't know how much you are told about my tiny country in the West of Europe, probably not a lot to nothing at all. Or you get told the tourist basics: the Netherlands, country of windmills, tulips, water management and the Amsterdam canals. Then again if you are into plants and gardening, like me, you'll perhaps know about our flower exports or Piet Oudolf, or Mien Ruys.

   If you have read some of my blogposts, you'll know I tend to stay away from politics, not because they don't interest me, but because I have this weird and irrational urge to want to write a blog that makes people happy in a small way, that entertains. There is already far too much grief in this world.

This is my daughter's juvenile cat.

He is a very naughty, cuddly sweetheart.

So, no rants about those morons that are using heavy fireworks to blow up ordinary houses (more than 1.000 in 2024, with several deaths, last week 6 at one incident), but instead a photo of a cuddly cat and the heartfelt wish that I will be able to walk my terrified dog around Dec.31st.

Sometimes I am struggling to stay positive. But hey, here is my gorgeous Erigeron, first time ever I managed to grow one. It must be due to climate change that it wanted to grow for me this year.

Did you know our previous prime minister, Mark Rutte, is head of NATO now? This week he told the nation we should stop being such dimwitted optimists (I translate a bit here) who are totally out of touch with reality, and prepare for war. I mean...golly! How many flowers and cats can I throw against that?

Bam! In your face, Mark! My answer to your scary words is my own personal flower patch.

Seriously though. If you want to cause a panic you must tell people to go get cash. Cash??? Wasn't that the stuff most people's grandparents used to buy groceries with? (I immediately wonder what will happen to Bitcoin when internet banking collapses)

Oh dear. I'm afraid I've run out of flowers and cats.

So I'll finish with some lyrics by one of the best Dutch singer-songwriters from Groningen, the late Ede Staal: 

              " 't Het nog nooit, nog nooit zo donker west,

              Of 't wer altied wel weer licht."

(It has never, never been that dark, that it would not get light again)

Have a lovely festive season. And try to keep looking on the bright side of life. 

Love from the Dutch Delta,

Renée 

193 - December 2024 - home with Puck

 Alwéér een jaar bijna voorbij...En wat voor een jaar! Het is maar goed dat dit geen politiek blog is, maar een gezellig tuinblog voor plantenliefhebbers. Kan ik hier fijn alle ellende, waar ik wel een mening over heb maar die voor mezelf houd, overslaan. Zeg nou zelf, als je een beetje het nieuws volgt, dan word je toch dieptriest? Dus: here we go!

Om je er maar even aan te herinneren waar mijn hart warm van wordt een foto van een Engels landschap, afgelopen zomer genomen door mijn dochter.  Hier word ik erg blij van. Rustig ook! En dat is fijn, wanneer de storm om je balkon heen giert en je weet dat je over een uur toch echt je hond moet uitlaten, omdat ze het nog steeds niet op de wc doet.

Nòg iets waar ik blij van word. Mijn tuin zoemt en ronkt in de maanden dat ik bloemen heb van de hommels. Ze gaan volkomen hun eigen gang, landen af en toe op mijn schouder of arm, maar meestal doen ze alsof ze me niet zien. Ik weet echter zeker dat ze me wèl zien, want er is er nog nooit eentje tegen me aan gevlogen. Misschien denken ze 'oh, daar heb je die rare boom weer, eromheen!'. Maar eerder vinden ze me volkomen onrelevant.

Het was deze week erg nat en erg stormachtig. Mijn kaardebollen (op de foto in juli 24 bij zonsondergang) staan echter nog fier rechtop, terwijl Pucks poten bijna onder haar vandaan geblazen werden, ik haar anker was en tegelijkertijd ervoor moest zorgen aan de loefzijde van haar piesie te staan. Ja,ja, waar je niet allemaal rekening mee moet houden met zo'n hond. 

Ze houdt me trouwens toch wel bezig, want nu ze wat ouder is (zou 7 kunnen zijn, maar ook zomaar 9), wil ze 's avonds niet meer naar buiten. Het vuurwerk helpt hierbij ook niet mee! Maar ze moet wel uit, want anders knapt haar blaas bijna om 05.00 en maakt ze me wakker: 

'Ik moet plassen! NU!' Dus maak ik haar rond 22.00 wakker en dan kijkt ze me aan met een blik die zegt 'Serieus? Je wilt nu gaan lopen?' Die blik doet me denken aan Mr Darcy: 'I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offences against myself...My good opinion once lost is lost forever.'

Of kort door de bocht in het Rotterdams: 'Jeetje, zeg, doet effe normaal!'

Aaaachchch, dat maak je toch niet wakker? Nou, echt wel! De CBD relaxsnoepjes liggen al klaar in de kast, want we gaan de Knalweken weer in. Eén knalletje in de verte en ze is panisch, zo zielig.

Het is echt Hollands decemberweer: nat, guur, veel wind. Op het balkon en in Hunky Dory is nu niet veel te beleven. De zakken moestuinaarde en stekgrond liggen al klaar, maar het is nog te vroeg in het seizoen om iets te zaaien. Ik gebruik mijn kas momenteel alleen om mijn bluesmondharmonica te oefenen. Thuis is dit niet te doen, want Puck zingt luidkeels mee, zij is ook gek op blues. Van mij mag ze, maar de buuf is geen bluesfan...

Okay, vanuit een stormachtig, regenachtig en guur Brielle wens ik je alvast een mooi weekend, een hele gezellige decembermaand en fijne Feestdagen. Oh enne, mocht jij vuurwerkliefhebber zijn, hou een beetje rekening met de (huis-)dieren, okay?

Renée