The Conservational Gardener

By Nanny Fontanella

Italians, rocks and genes

	Bob at Toronto Reservoir in 1998 (Click for larger image)

Bob and I were in New York City last Thursday afternoon. We stopped for gas on the way home. They had no power. But we thought it was them, not IT.

We began to run out around Nanuet, got off the parkway and found a large station. Joe the mechanic, a Sheldon Leonard type, came up to the car saying there was a blackout and they couldn’t pump gas. I was in shock!

There it was, but we couldn’t get any and we were stranded. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a precipice looking down into the future, and it made me dizzy.

There was instant rapport between Joe and Bob; it didn’t hurt that they were both Italian. Tons of cars drove up and left; people were milling about. My husband sang the blues: “We live up in Sullivan County. Our cat’s in the car, etc.”

Joe crooked his finger, beckoning, and whispered, “I am gonna do something for you. Just wait.”

We put the cat in the garage and hung out, eating ices (it was hot). Joe ambled over in about an hour and said sotto voce, “Bring your car around back.”

Just knock three times and whisper low that you and I were sent by Joe, then strike a match and you will know, you’re in Hernado’s Hideaway, Olé.

For $15 we got 5 gallons of the good stuff, just enough to get us home. Bless you Joe!

While we’re on the subject, there’s seems to be an affinity between Italian men and stone. In an afternoon, a pile of rocks becomes a wall, a set of steps, a walk or patio. The way Bob fits stones together is in the genes, maybe all the way from Pompeii.

Of course, I get an earbeat: “This will never work... it looks terrible....I’m not good at this...how am I gonna get enough stone?” But what’s a wife to do? He’s creating a work of art.

I asked for some tips. He said, “I don’t impose anything on the land or the stone. I let it lead me. If I find a big root or rock naturally jutting out, I incorporate it. I assemble rocks before I begin to help maintain the same size throughout. I lay my stone on a sand bed (sand is free at the transfer stations in our town). I also grout with sand; weeding and lifting stone to remove roots is easier and the sand becomes like concrete after a while.”

Bob also builds small rock walls around the fruit trees because it keeps their roots warm in the winter and helps retain moisture during the growing season.

Nanny is good at digging and putting rocks in piles and refers to them as cairns. She also builds pillars—one big rock on top of another—which is very Japanese. Rubble walls of vertically piled rocks are easy to do. Bob admired one that curved around; the concave side was filled with soil so that the stabilized rubble served as a retaining wall. Alpines, vinca or any vine tumble over the rocks in wild profusion.

If you have any questions, suggestions or comments, send them to asknanny@riverreporter.com.