The final stage of the tulip bouquet

 Beautiful to the end, it is difficult to throw them out. Usually they last on the vase until the petals start dropping on the floor, 

Tulip time

The various stages of a bunch of tulips are so nice.

I like them best when they fall apart! Like ballet dancers they fnd their own way in the vase.

Finding stones in the garden

One of our dogs used to dig in the garden and make big holes. 

He would not stop until he had found what he was expecting there: a big stone.

It is more than 20 years ago that I painted these stones, inspired by a Christmas card. 

The paint has faded - a heart on the left stone, the middle ones came out as pirates, the right one is 'natural'.

These stones move around in the garden, to protect a plant and to hold water for it,

Working in the garden all kind of things come to the surface, The past, for instance - a Dinky toy of a child that once lived here, or broken pieces of antique china. Always so fascinating!

Taking home shells and stones from your holiday destination makes it even more fun when you give them faces, like artist Sylvie Selig did.

 

Psalm 103 - The life of mortals is like grass

15The life of mortals is like grass,

they flourish like a flower of the field;

16the wind blows over it and it is gone,

and its place remembers it no more.

In memory of my uncle Bernard, who died on the Birma Railroad. He is buried in Thailand, I wonder if my aunt was able to visit his grave ever.

A very talented man, a tropical forest engineer. My uncle and aunt were so young, he was 39 when he died and my aunt 36 at the time, a prisoner of war on Java. My aunt never remarried.
War is so useless, so pointless, so destructive.
This week I visited an elderly lady. In her kitchen she had a huge handwritten note: peace starts at home. So true!

Today we commemorate the end of World War II in Indonesia.
Born after the war I only know my uncle from stories within the family. My aunt lived nearby and was my teacher in the early days at school. 

The grass shown here was a seedling on our terrace. It grew and grew and became very wide and large. It's forms were amazing. It is tough, it is there to stay.

Recollections of a holiday

It seemed such a good idea to buy a Campsis Radicans and plant it next to the wood shed.
In time it would nicely grow over the roof of it and we would enjoy its beautiful flowers was the idea. It feels happy where it is planted. Too happy, in fact. And instead of growing over the roof  (which of course I try to guide) it makes long shoots towards the West and tries to curl around the chimney of our heating system and everywhere where it should not go.
So, there was no choice. I had to climb the roof of the adjacent building and cut it back drastically, blooms and all.

The flowers bring back memories of a holiday I spent with my parents in Switzerland and Italy in my teens. We sat out on a tiny terrace of a restaurant on a rock in Cannobio at the Lago Maggiore. The view on the lake was beautiful, the apricot juice the waiter in formal black and white brought me was in a minute bottle, and the flowers of the Campsis so abundant around us. I loved the trumpets, the colour, it looked so exotic.
The tranquility of the lake, the small sips from the concentrated apricot juice, they are such nice recollections of that holiday. Amazing how certain situations you can recall like yesterday.

The cuttings I put up in a vase in the garden, but the flowers are not meant to shine in a vase. They should trumpet from the roof! And I just have to be aware of its abundant enthousiasm to grow all over the place.

Rosa 'New Dawn'

Now, who does not have Rosa 'New Dawn' in his garden??

The garden was fresh and cool early this morning. If we listen to the weatherforecast it is going to be a sizzling day. I guess tonight we will find many dropped pink leaves ....

Rosa 'New Dawn''

'Feeling good' by Nina Simone

Birds flying high you know how I feel

Sun in the sky you know how I feel

Breeze driftin' on by you know how I feel

(refrain:)

It's a new dawn

It's a new day

It's a new life

For me

And I'm feeling good

Fish in the sea you know how I feel

River running free you know how I feel

Blossom on the tree you know how I feel

(refrain)

Dragonfly out in the sun you know what I mean, don't you know

Butterflies all havin' fun you know what I mean

Sleep in…

Midsummer

It was a day of cutting hedges, pulling weeds, raindrops, sunshine, talking to neighbours hanging on to my rake, watching birds, sitting on the door step waiting for my husband as I was locked out, talking to a little boy who was in search of his teacher Tatjana ( who had written in his school book she would be at nr.22 but where was nr. 22??!!) and could not find her, a day of staring at the amazing colours of the nasturtium in flower pots and following the bumble bees who seem to be so plentiful at the moment.
Beauty all around.
I took my compass out last night and checked out where  about the sun sets. It showed 300 degrees NW. Twice a year the sun comes in through our windows on the North - it is forever fascinating and it always takes me by surprise.

Time goes so fast: the blackberries are plentiful in our hedges, the roses flower abundantly, before we know it the trees will drop their leaves .... The elm trees always start in June and I blink when I see it.

Rosa 'Chippendale'

Rosa 'Chippendale'

What's in a name?. Shakespeare wondered. 

Thibaut's fabric 'tea house'

One can find all kinds of information on the labels on the roses for sale: how to plant them, where to plant them, the size, etc. etc., but never an explanation on the label why the rose carries its name. Because of the 'chinoiserie' influences in Thomas Chippendale's furniture it is most likely that this rose is named after him. 

  

It has lovely round buds, the colours vary from apricot to pink. The stems are a little fragile and can hardly carry the heavy filled blooms. It is potted up in a terracotta pot with three lavender plants around it. An experiment, which I enjoy very much looking at when I have my quiet moments on the garden seat. 

Have a seat, read a while and enjoy the roses in our garden!

D-Day Commemoration 2019 - “For your tomorrow we gave our today”

The Shores of Normandy, by Jim Radford (D-Day veteran)

In the cold grey light of the sixth of June, in the year of forty-four,
The Empire Larch sailed out from Poole to join with thousands more.
The largest fleet the world had seen, we sailed in close array,
And we set our course for Normandy at the dawning of the day.

There was not one man in all our crew but knew what lay in store,
For we had waited for that day through five long years of war.
We knew that many would not return, yet all our hearts were true,
For we were bound for Normandy, where we had a job to do.

Now the Empire Larch was a deep-sea tug with a crew of thirty-three,
And I was just the galley-boy on my first trip to sea.
I little thought when I left home of the dreadful sights I'd see,
But I came to manhood on the day that I first saw Normandy.

At the Beach of Gold off Arromanches, 'neath the rockets' deadly glare,
We towed our blockships into place and we built a harbour there.
'Mid shot and shell we built it well, as history does agree,
While brave men died in the swirling tide on the shores of Normandy.

Like the Rodney and the Nelson, there were ships of great renown,
But rescue tugs all did their share as many a ship went down.
We ran our pontoons to the shore within the Mulberry's lee,
And we made safe berth for the tanks and guns that would set all Europe free.

For every hero's name that's known, a thousand died as well.
On stakes and wire their bodies hung, rocked in the ocean swell;
And many a mother wept that day for the sons they loved so well,
Men who cracked a joke and cadged a smoke as they stormed the gates of hell.

As the years pass by, I can still recall the men I saw that day
Who died upon that blood-soaked sand where now sweet children play;
And those of you who were unborn, who've lived in liberty,
Remember those who made it so on the shores of Normandy.

"For your tomorrow we gave our today''

Meet Shakespeare in our garden today

Rosa 'William Shakespeare'

"I suggest that you listen below to Sonnet 54 on YouTube, read by Sir John Gielgud" 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yQEjl65rXZE

"O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem, 

By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!

The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem 

For that sweet odour which doth in it live. 

The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye 

As the perfumed tincture of the roses, 

Hang on such thorns and play as wantonly 

When summer's breath their masked buds discloses:

But, for their virtue only is their show, 

They live unwoo'd and unrespected fade, 

Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so; 

Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made:

And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,

When that shall fade, my verse distills your truth". 

# W.H. Shakespeare #

Drawing by Pablo Picasso

Shakespeare most certainly inspired many to be creative. When you search internet you come across the most inspiring ways of trying to express what he must have looked like. Pictures with him wearing sunglasses, having tattoos, with lace collars, with long hair, with curly hair, with straight hair, school essays - it is both hilarious and serious. Great fun! So interesting to start reading the sonnets and their meanings in preparation of this post. 

Living in London for a while it was a wonderful experience to attend 'A Midsummer's Night Dream' in Green Park at Solstice. It was surrealistic to sit on white folded chairs, seeing the actors appearing from the shrubs, being part of the decor, airplanes flying over and making the actors waiting to continue until the sound was over, and even - how British - sitting underneath an umbrella in the end because of course it started to rain! It is an everlasting memory.

It was an impulse buy in the garden center (as happens with so many plants once you are there). Rosa 'William Shakespeare' ended up in my shopping cart  because of its extraordinary colours and flowers. It is fascinating and rich in colour. Turning the label it showed the name of this David Austin rose. No doubt it was named after him because of the beauty of his oeuvre.

It smiles at us as we sit in the dining room, it thrives in the morning sun. Who would not enjoy having William Shakespeare in his garden and seeing this at breakfast time?!

Rosa 'Just Joey'

What can one add to the pictures below?

Seeing this rose and smelling the perfume of it is such a joy. You can only be quiet and take in the beauty. Unfolded it is 5 inches wide (18 cm).
It is a very strong rose, sometimes with 6 or 7 buds on one stem, flowering until late December with deep coral colours. This particular rose appeared many a time on this blog before, but every new blossom is such a thrill that I just cannot help posting about it again. Together with Rosa 'Peau Douce' it is the biggest rose in the garden. The name of this one? 'Just Joey', a hybrid tea rose.

It is warm in the garden, 30 C degrees forecasted. How wonderful it will be to spend the day in the shade and have a view on these roses that grow so happily next to our pear trees.

detail of 'Summer' by Jean Paul Cassigneul

Where is my shoe ???

This is one of the pear trees, trained horizontally, and planted against the garage. So amazing to follow how quickly the blossoms turn into fruit. It is not precisely a herb or vegetable garden where the three Doyenne de Comice and Conférence trees are planted, but there is a bit of everything in that corner. This year for instance artichokes at the background are an experiment. Not every day, but often I step in between the plants to see how the seeds are doing. What was this strange surface at the bottom of the pear tree?

It appeared to be my shoe. The dog had pinched it the day before from the garden settee. Look how he buried this: even a little twig of the just cut yew trees placed on it! First he digs a hole with his front paws, then he hides his trophy and covers it all by sand with his nose.
When putting on my Wellingtons at the kitchen door I had left the shoes on top of the settee, never thinking of the dog. He accompanies me all the time, is always close, sniffing the air with his long nose, listening to things that I cannot even hear and from time to time telling me how he is enjoying himself by giving me a kiss on the nose and asking for a hug. At a certain stage he was away and I missed him, but he cannot break out of the garden so sooner or later he returns and no need to worry..

When my back was aching, my duties for that day in the garden done, it was time to stop, take off the Wellingtons and to put back on my normal shoes. But where was one of my shoes ??? I would have loved to see how triumphant he had carried it away sneakily, with composed and careful steps, searching for an appropriate place to hide it. He has done this before, the most gorgeous sea green summer shoe was found back all discoloured of the mud and the rain a few days later. Once a garden glove was sticking out of the soil as a hand .... So far I had not missed it and seeing this really startled me

!

He is clever. He knows all his toys by name, so I wondered if he could find me the shoe. I told him to go and find it. Off we went, he took me through the whole garden, like a guide in the jungle almost - just adorable. But no shoe! By now I know his hiding places, but no luck this time. He has learnt me a lesson: to be careful the next time where I put my things. 

How I love my dog, shoe or no shoe!

Mother's Day

It is Mother's Day.
My mother and I used to share our plants. She lived on 'sand' and we live on 'clay', which meant that the plants from her garden thrived so much more than the ones in hers. Despite all her care it would never become what she saw later over here. With disbelief she would stand there and watch, would pull her skirt in the for her so typical manner and then say: 'I do not understand it ...... it is fantastic how the plants do so well in your garden, your soil is so good'.

This pink strawberry is from her garden. It is potted up to share it with others this spring. So pretty! Bright and colourful, just as she was.

My father was really in charge of the garden and would do most of the work. When he could no longer do it my mother took over. She had a different 'touch' to the garden. My eldest sister could not always appreciate how she planted the perennials like soldiers lined up next to each other. A systematic mind and so disciplined which became visible in her garden approach!

How I miss her, but she is there in the garden - I hear her, I can almost touch her, and touch her plants, but I cannot talk with her anymore. And that we used to do so much, talk and laugh together!

Happy Mother's Day!

by Jessie Willcox Smith

Wisteria and a warm 'hello'

The wisteria originated in the United States, China, Japan and Korea. Over here they are blossoming at the moment: against facades, porches, along flag poles, just anywhere where it feels free to curl up and take over the place. It is a big favorite in just any garden, small or big.
We have a wisteria in this garden. It carried many blooms, but part froze over and now a new part has to grow up. No blooms as yet this year. Before we know it will have made its way underneath the woodwork of the house, such a rampant growing plant, you really have to watch it.

Where are you going, my friend?

Wisteria on its way in the Hibiscus 'Oiseau Bleu'

In 2010 I posted this story, about the wisteria along the river, dangling from one tree to the other and forming a swing. So romantic and such a beautiful sight. The new owners of the house nearby changed their garden dramatically, as happens so often unfortunately. Mature and fully grown gardens are taken down to scrap and altered to new and modern ideas.  One of the two trees covered with wisteria was cut down. So sad..... it ruined this fantastic scene created by nature, the wisteria entangled in the arms of both trees.
The picture of the shoes in this former post disappeared for some unknown reason. It is not possible after all these years to access and edit the post. Well. here is a pair of Marie Antoinette's shoes, found on Pinterest, it suits the story nicely. Sometimes one wishes to be able to travel back in history!

Today no tea visit along the river, but a creative visit to Quiltshop Vlijtig Liesje in the polder.

The wisteria forms a gorgeous purple welcome along the path beside the private car and bycicle parking shed. The flower bunches are so long, truly amazing!

Binky, the beagle of the shop owner, forever knows exactly which customers arrive with cookies in their handbags. His welcome at the front garden is loud and enthusiastic, he then runs around the house speedily and repeats his warm greetings at the entrance of the shop, hoping the treats appear from our bags. On leaving the same ceremony and the promiss next time there will be more cookies. For him, and for us a treat - the shop in these beautiful surroundings is such a creative place.

See you next time, Binky!

'May flowers always line your path'

'May flowers always line your path

And sunshine light your day.

May songbirds serenade your every step along the way.

May a rainbow run beside you in a sky that’s always blue.

And may happiness fill your heart each day

Your whole life through’.

- Irish Blessing-

'MAY flowers always line your path'
'May FLOWERS always line your path'

..... like they lined my path today .....