Digging for Gold? Gina the Tunneler.

We have had our dog for almost 10 years now. And she's sweet, absolutely. But she has this annoying habit: she digs up the flowerbeds.

Now obviously I know many (most?) dogs dig. They like to make themselves a cosy nest for sleeping in. And I remember our first Dalmatian dog digging holes underneath my Mum's beloved roses (alongside those dug by the chickens, by the way). 

But Gina doesn't dig her bed, she just...digs. Huge holes. And afterwards she comes in all muddy and flops down on the parquet all happy. And I go into the garden with dismay, and view yet another Hydrangea bush dug up, or my lovely Echinacea covered in earth.

She started in a small way, a couple of years ago, in the bed between the back and side garden, and we forgave her, for she had found the tunnel of a vole who obviously lived underneath that bed. We even praised her, I remember, clever girl, that will show that vole!

But then the small hole got bigger, and deeper, and we were certain that the vole had moved on ages before, and she dug up all my tulip bulbs in the process.

So we put up wire netting, to protect the bulbs and to stop her. She simply tore out the netting. Then we tried chaining her up when we weren't around to stop her. She howled. So now we try to keep an eye on her when she goes into the garden.

And as long as our eye is on her, she is innocence itself, simply snoozing in the sun or dozing in the shade, nowhere near a flowerbed, in fact.

And then, as soon as our attention lags, she is at it again. No way that she is digging for mice or voles (we hardly have any left anyway, with Viggo hunting them mercilessly) - and the holes get more numerous and bigger every time.

Grape Harvest Tiny? Make Jam!

Good morning to you!
Four years ago we planted a blue grape. Not well-planned, so we planted it in our sunny corner near the pond, but also next to the prickly hedge...

This was in July.

And this was yesterday:

Cool, eh?

I have spent a very pleasurable hour picking them yesterday afternoon, trying to ignore the numerous spiders crawling up my sleeves and down my neck.

Unfortunately this vine has wound itself right into the prickly hedge, so I had to pick very carefully, giving the spiders ample time for their crawling business.

Watching the fish in our pond calmed me down after my fit that occurred when a huge spider had worked its way into my armpit.

They always flock when they see me, hoping for a nice little freeze dried shrimp or two.

Oh, do you know, when I was right into that hedge a brown frog leaped out of it, right over my head, into the pond. It must have been sitting at least 1.8 m high, snacking on all these spiders, no doubt.

And this was wound into that hedge as well. Don't you love them? I do!

Oost-Indische Kers is their name in Dutch. They have seeded themselves. I certainly didn't put them in that hedge! Shades of Middle Earth, eh?

Right. Now take a look at  my harvest:

Looking good! But definitely NOT enough for making wine (which is what I ultimately would like to do). So...I'll make jam. Plain jelly, plain jam and grape-and-apple compote.

Went to the local jam jar selling shop, and had to endure a jabbering shop assistant, who was so into her own story that she dropped my entire load of jars on the floor and broke half. She had to go to the back to get others, and I ended up with a different size as she had run out of the size I wanted in the first place. That was an exercise in patience, which I survived.

This morning I started out bright and early.

And this is the result, 6 hours later.

Will this get us through the winter? Hmmmmmm...

Oh...It Feels Like Autumn Has Arrived! 10 Reasons Not to Panic.

If you are a Summer person, like me, the arrival of the berries on the Hawthorn may fill you with trepidation.

And no, these aren't them. It is an Autumnal image though...

We have a saying in my part of the Wetlands: when the Hawthorn berries turn red, Autumn has arrived.

And they have. Turned red.

And my predominant emotion is noooooooooooooo, I'm not ready!

Autumn means damp, and wind, and wetness, and getting up in the morning when it is still dark, and all too soon it means getting home in the dark as well.

And I'll feel like a frigging mole for months on end.

So. This year will be different. I have decided this single-handedly.

And to help myself along (and you), I will now proceed to list 10 reasons not to panic.

1. Toadstools are lovely. Even when there are no faeries sitting on them (if there are, they are even lovelier, or you have been at the wine again)

2. Autumn leaves are gorgeous and smell divine

3. Autumn is the perfect excuse for lighting the wood stove, which is the perfect excuse for making either hot chocolate or for opening a good bottle of wine

4.  The grapes are ripe, which means I can do my thing and make grape juice and grape jelly and grape-and-apple confiture (no wine, alas, we do not have enough of them. Erm...is it me, or is there a very high wine content in this post?)

5. Most youngsters leave our communal park hang-out and move indoors. This makes our nights a lot quieter - which is good. Quiet is good, when you are over 55.

6. Temperatures dropping are a good reason for making stews and hotpots. Somehow these dishes do not appeal to a lot of people when the sun is shining and everyone is drinking either Radler or Rosé.

7. Autumn is the approach to Winter. And Winter in the Wetlands could (note the word!) mean ice, which in turn could mean ice skating on natural ice. Now, you do not know this, but we Dutchies are a bit loony where ice skating is concerned. My husband, for example, is known to drop everything and will risk his life to be one of the first ones to skate on 'virginal' ice. It is always business before pleasure; until the nearest lake freezes over. Then it is 'where did I leave my long underwear'.

8. Autumn means running up to Christmas. We, non- Christians, are big on Christmas in our house. Weird, I know. It is the lights, the cosy tree, the lovely shop windows, the planning of parties, the planning and making of dinners. (Not so much the music; when I hear Wham's Last Christmas one more time I'll probably puke)

9. Autumn means our own apples from our own Elstar apple tree. Without doubt and without boasting the best tasting apples ever. The non-wormhole ones we eat raw, the others we dissect and make apple sauce from with lots of cinnamon.

10. Autumn usually has dreamy quiet windless days in between all the wet windy ones. Those quiet days are gorgeous. You can feel the world slowing down. Nature winding down. Mosquitos leave. The starlings and jackdaws wheel through the sky in their hundreds and make up for the fact that the swallows and house martins have left for Africa. Spiderwebs make the garden a jewel filled treasure trove. 

See? it's not so bad.

Enjoy your Autumn!

Let's All Smell the Roses, shall we?

Hi, my mindfully dreaming friends from all over the world. How has your day been so far?
I am in my garden, under my umbrella, in a summer frock with a thick vest on... In other words, it is a typical Dutch late-Spring day, with a bit of everything: wind, sunshine, and huge sailing clouds.

I'm on my own; my family all had their own things to pursue, and that's fine by me. They'll all be back at some stage in the evening, demanding food and attention, so right now I'm enjoying my time by myself. And admiring my roses. The one above is a New Dawn.

I adore roses. And have tried to grow them ever since we bought our house in 1994. But our soil isn't quite right for them; and it has been mainly a big case of trial and error which species thrive and which do not (and that, unfortunately is most of them). The white one does okay. It is called Snow White.

This one, a small flowering kind with bright red blooms, is just about to spring into flower. And it has a story.

My Mum, knowing I love roses, bought it for me in the supermarket years ago, in a pot. It was just 15 cm high and had exactly 5 flowers. It was one of those supermarket plants that are supposed to look good for a week or so and then they expect you to throw it away and buy another one. I even scolded my Mum for spending her money on such a plant. So, when this rose had dropped her flowers, predictably after a week, I first wanted to throw it on the compost heap. But I changed my mind, for the leaves looked quite healthy. So I planted it outside our garden, underneath the elderberry tree, and told it to either live or give up the ghost, it was all the same to me.

Not only did it live, but it thrived. It is now huge, climbing all the way up into the elderberry and along our fence. It has hundreds and hundreds of flowers every year. It has survived the coldest winter we've experienced for years in 2012, whilst all our other roses died. I greet it every day. Admire its pluck and will to survive. And have have said sorry to it numerous times for showing it such indifference when I planted it.

(Yeah, yeah, I've warned you I'm one of those dotty women, haven't I?)

The gorgeous pink climbing rose above is another gift from my Mum. She had it on her balcony, where it suffered from the ever blowing Westerly winds we have over here near the sea. So she gave it to us, and it does well. It shall remain nameless, like the hardy little pot rose. But it is loved.

It is just coming into flower as well, as you can see in the very fashionable selfie :P

Here we are. At the end of this rosy blogpost.  I'm going to pour a glass of sherry for Mum (who will be arriving for dinner any minute) and a glass of red wine for myself, and smell the roses. That makes me very happy.

Enjoy your evening!

Do You Feel Like a Room Without a Roof? Just Another Day in the Garden.

Hi there!
My pansies have had it. That last storm 2 nights ago, with wind speeds up to 9, have whipped them into submission...no life left in them.
What better excuse to visit my local garden shop?!

Gardening makes me very happy indeed :-)

So: out with the pansies and in with a lovely lavender (the purple butterfly variety) and in front of the house blue lobelia and white begonia. I try to stick to a blue/white/grey/pink colour scheme over there, as we still haven't repainted the blue/grey door covering.

There you are; they are tiny still (I tend to go for small plants as they are far cheaper, obviously), but experience tells me they will grow to overflow that planter in no time!

Meanwhile the plants in the greenhouse are growing as well. We have harvested the first 3 (small) cucumbers, and I have been able to pluck enough lettuce leaves for salads for the last week. Yay! They taste much, much better than that stuff you can buy in the supermarket (we don't have an organic greenery nearby, unfortunately).

The large-leafed plant is a courgette (or zuchini I believe Americans call it). And the tomatoes are coming along fine. The red/orange flowers are called "Afrikaantjes", and they smell rather peppery. Many people say they stink. We've planted them not for their flowers (which are nice enough), but for their utility in keeping out the ants. Ants hate them.

And what do you think of our geranium? Cool eh?

It's last year's, but due to our extremely mild winter it never stopped growing, so now it is 60 cm wide and high. Together with the herbs and the gravel it gives the back garden where we eat (whenever we can!) a French atmosphere.

Two evenings ago we tried eating there; the temperature was fine (22 degrees, which is warm for The Wetlands I can tell you!), but that wind blew so hard already that the salad was blown into the liguster hedge...Oh well. You aren't Dutch if you aren't used to wind and wetness...

Okay, back to the garden for me now!

Have a lovely Saturday, and get your hands into that soil!

Come on, you can do better than that, surely?

Good evening (it is evening over here, and what a lovely evening it is!)
How are you all?
Have you voted in the poll (at the top of the blog page) yet? No....you have not. So far only one person has... And this person wants more about gardening and a day in the life :-)
Well, Person, here you are:

This picture says it all. This is everything I like about cats; the ability to seek out the best sleeping place in the garden, with your head in a ray of sunlight, underneath a pretty shrub, on warm flagstones.

Felines do know how to seek out the best spots, don't they?

Did I mention you can also visit my Rays of Light Page on FB? here's the link:

Rays of Light on FB

My son has bought an audio recorder, so as soon as he's more familiar with it, I intend to link you to my voice. 

Eeeeeeeek?

Well, if "eeeeeek"  was your gut reaction, by all means do not seek it out. But if you are curious, then by all means do. And I can tell you about a day in the life firsthand.

(Hey, Person, did you catch on? This is more about cats again...sorry)

Right. I am very busy, as I have to write a speech for the forthcoming wedding on Friday. So I'll say bye-bye for now.

Do fill in that poll, if you have a moment?

The sun was shining and it was a lovely day! My cat helped me gardening.

Today I spent the day gardening. Helped by Viggo, my cat.

Nothing to do with this photo, but I thought it so cute...

I have been cutting back the heather, kept company by my black cat Viggo. I had to take care, and stay alert, for the danger of cutting off the tip of his tail by mistake was a real one. He kept jumping in and out of the heather.

He enjoys 'helping' me, in fact he's been known to dig up the plants as fast as I can put them into the earth.

He is very good at planting bulbs as well (not) and takes chasing the frogs into the pond very seriously.

I have had cats living with me for my entire life. My mum likes telling the story of giving birth to me with their big orange tomcat Peter sitting at the foot of the bed and keeping an eye on the proceedings. And of me sleeping in the rattan crib with Peter next to me. So I suppose cats and me are a given.

I have visions of myself as an old lady, living happily with a house full of cats. Not going to happen though! I have been in houses filled with cats, and I know what they smell like. So I'll stick to two, max.

But for now I love my black rotund friend.

Our Garden in May

Hi there!
Thought I'd share some more garden talk with you. Many of you seem to enjoy my gardening chit-chat. It has a high "cosy with a tea cosy" level, so if it is too much for you, skip it.

Here you are; shades of Middle Earth... I adore Nasturtiums. These ones are actually last year's which have survived our very mild winter. I allow it to creep and climb where ever it wants to go. We eat it, too! (If you want to eat some, make sure you wash it though, it's very susceptible to black garden lice).

It has been raining cats and dogs for the last 48 hours, so our large pond rocks are showing their best colours. Do you see that net? We've had surprise visits from the local blue heron...and it ate my favourite fish! The blue b...! 

(Now, before you report me to your RSPCA, of course I know that herons need to eat. But there's a perfectly good huge municipal pond right at the back of our garden, absolutely stocked full of wild fish, so I don't know why that bird wants to gobble up my pet ones!)

Well, here it is, I promised you some weeks ago, and look. Men-high digitalis. 

I don't tell you that much about my husband...It's because he's quite private. But I'm sure he doesn't mind me telling you that one of his pet projects is building bird houses. These two are the ones he's knocked together in a hurry (he's always too busy), but I know that as soon as he really has time to make something more elaborate, it will be looking something like this.

When we visited Canada some years ago we saw the most wonderful bird houses, and he's always wanted to make some.

Okay, enough about the garden for today. Make sure you enjoy yours! And recite this little poem whilst you are weeding :-)

If you want to be happy for a short time, get drunk

Happy for a long time, fall in love

Happy for ever, take up gardening!

A New Serial: Beautiful Hellevoetsluis!

This evening I had a short discussion with my daughter. Her argument was that Hellevoetsluis, and especially the part of Hellevoetsluis we live in (called the Kooistee) is ugly, or un-attractive at the least.
To prove her wrong, I took her for an hour long walk. In the rain (poor girl). To show her that the Kooistee may be a working men's suburb, but that there is beauty here.
This is the result.
And I thought that I would show you some more pictures from time to time, to prove that even the Kooistee has its merits.

These photos are from one and the same corner, on the Orion. A very early rose and  three kinds of clematis.

Our route this evening. (Google maps): Left on Trambaanpad, right on Mandenmaker, right to Nijverheidsweg, left to Kanaalweg, left to Orion (took 4 photos on the corner), left to Nereus, right to Dierenriem, straight on to Trambaanpad.

Next time I'll show you another route. 

Tired But Content - How are You?

This is the day after the night before...
And I am winding down after a hectic week at work and the birthday party for my kids. 
We had fun, our friends ate all the kebab with saté sauce, and the mess was minimal (always nice).

So what did I do today? I cleared that minimal mess in the house and then spent some peaceful hours in the garden clearing out the weeds from in between our cobbles.

See the difference?

This is my mindfulness exercise which I practice numerous times every Spring. If I do this a couple of hours every day, I will have cleared the entire garden in two weeks.

Many of our acquaintances have pronounced us MAD. But we like our cobbles. They are old-fashioned, and have been salvaged from the old road which used to run from Hellevoetsluis to Den Briel before it was tarred. 

I was too tired to do more cooking, so went to get a take-away, and look what I found on the little square where the local chippy is:

Honestly. Some people have a weird idea of fun... There's bikes in every tree, can you see?

Right.

Time to have another cup of tea and some left-over cake.

See you!

Sunday...and Yet Another Glorious Day for the Garden.

Good afternoon, where ever you are :-)
I am in my garden - where else? It is my sanctuary, after all.

I watch it grow and change daily - what's that...hourly now.

See those bluebells? They remind me of England. I lived in Hampshire for 6 months, and the wood behind the farm where I worked as an underpaid and overworked (and poorly fed!) nanny was filled with them. When we got our own garden we planted a few of them and they have spread all over.

Do you like my allium? This one is in the greenhouse, the ones outside aren't as advanced yet.

I have been doing my mindfulness chore today...clearing out the grass and other seedlings from in between my cobbles. I do not mind this, although it did make me tear a nail today. I sit on my bum or alternately on my knees and listen to the bumblebees and the birds. Very restful!

More bluebells, but also my ferns. We dug out a young one 21 years ago in a wood (sssshhht, don't tell) and they have spread as well, with a little help from us.

Wallflowers, always sweet! We started out with one garden centre bought pink one, and now have them multi-coloured from pale yellow to deep purple and everything in between. They seed themselves, and take care of their colouring themselves as well, so it's always a surprise what we'll get each year.

Sweet eh? The pansies are at their peak at the moment, while the cornflowers are still tightly in bud.

Remember my tulips from last week?? Couldn't resist showing them off again. They are getting blowsy now...Last week for them. And the digitalis is shooting up, it already reaches up to my thigh.

Uhm...my shed needs repainting...Another mindfulness chore. I'll do that when I fancy doing it, probably in the summer holidays. The larger birds (jays, woodpecker, jackdaw) still visit the bird table, even though I have some decorations hanging there. They are not impressed.

I'll leave you with a professional photo, photographer unknown I'm afraid. Have a wonderful Sunday in the garden!!