Lost track of all the times that's been asked when I run into golfers in town.
So...call me crazy, but here's my many-years-long palm tree growing passion exposed.
...as though golfers don't know as they routinely walk into a palm tree on the patio in summer, necessitating hat retrievals.
This hobby resembles an obsession (grin), but aren't all hobbies like that?
Unusual varieties--which I love the most--invariably have to start as seed because North Okanagan nurseries don't stock them, understandably.
These duck-egg sized Wodyetia bifurcata (Foxtail palm) seeds came from Mike Dahme's tree in Florida...
Very beautiful seeds:
And here's the 5-year old Foxtail Palm (still a juvenile):
Eventually resembling these beauties:
Stunning, huh? Yup.
Then there's the planted (yes, planted) Trachycarpus fortunei (Windmill Palm), here shown in its heated and insulated winter hut (door is open on mild-ish days).
No small task protecting this brute:
And then there are the two planted Washingtonia filifera (Mexican Fan Palm), first a summer photo, and then a photo of their winter protection, replete with C-9 Christmas lights on a T-3 thermocube for heat. Three Yucca rostrata are planted between them.
And, as usual, the clubhouse is chock-full of patio palms every winter.
Buckets of water for sporadic watering, as lines are turned off at the source during the off season. |
Geraniums that adorn #1 Teebox to greet visitors are anxiously awaiting spring, too:
Oh...and yes, there are new palm seeds, warming in the basement near the woodstove, ready to germinate:
N. arabica (silver), N. ritchiana, B. armata, Beaucarnea |
Keeps me busy until it's time to welcome golfers again...
Oh yeah...gotta call the programmer for the cash registers now that the failed HST has to be changed into the resurrection of the former PST (and separation of the GST).
Good ole' government...can always count on them to screw up my winter and add costs for business.
And Kia hated winter...apart from missing her golfer friends.
"Hate it when I can't see my feet," mutters Kia.
Paws, Kia. Those are paws.
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