by Glynnis Hayward

Created on: December 02, 2009   Last Updated: December 05, 2009

My eccentric father-in-law had a great desire to grow tropical plants in an environment that was clearly not tropical. Undaunted by winter frosts, he babied avocado and banana plants. Every year he would suffer losses in the winter and it was clear to everyone that success was not going to be coming anytime soon. Even with global warming, the greenhouse effect was not going to progress fast enough for him to enjoy success in his lifetime as a banana farmer in the Santa Clara Valley. His hopeless ambition was fueled by the sight of ornamental banana plants on offer at nurseries, while avocados he tried valiantly to propagate by himself; he would manage to get pips to sprout a root system and a stem with a few leaves, but they never grew more than six inches before their time was up. They longed for the warmth and humidity of different climes.

We all cheered him on or commiserated, as circumstance demanded. I sometimes tried to cajole him into trying something less doomed for failure, but he would hear nothing of it. "All I need to do is replicate conditions as best I can, and these plants will adapt," he would tell me. Then he would add with determination, "Just you wait and see. If they can grow tropical plants in England, then I can grow them in Northern California."

"But they grow them indoors at Kew Gardens," I would respond. "You don't even have a hot house."

"I am growing them under cover," he would reply. "They're protected from the frost."

"But not from the cold!" My protests seem to make him more determined, rather than making him see reason.

After a few winters of discontent, I resigned myself to accepting his eccentricity with the project code named "Tropicana." My husband, however, decided otherwise. Ever the practical joker, he planned something that made his father see the humor of the situation in a way that no words would ever achieve. He put his plan into action with a trip to the supermarket where he purchased a big bunch of green bananas. He then paid a visit to his parents' home when he knew they were out, and made his way to the patio where the banana tree stood in a pot, protected by burlap hung over the rafters of the patio roof. With some garden twine, he artfully attached the bunch of bananas to a branch.

The next morning was a Saturday and we were invited for breakfast. It was a beautiful day and my husband suggested we have coffee on the patio. Unsuspectingly, we all went out into the warm morning sunshine and began to chat happily

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