The summer of 1918 was a sad one in the tiny village of Bisaccia, Italy. Like many of the residents of this peasant community near Naples, 36-year-old Isabella Piccolella Gervasio was caring for family and friends suffering from the global pandemic of influenza. Isabella had even helped bury loved ones (this, after losing her two little girls, ages 3 and 4, to meningitis just a few years before). So far, she and her 4-year-old daughter, Carmella, had survived. Isabella’s husband, Antonio, was off (who new where?) fighting with the Italian Army in World War I.
One hot afternoon, Isabella herself was feeling feverish — not to mention emotionally overwhelmed at the death cloud that hung over her village. Rather than take to her bed and give in to her fatigue and frustration, she turned to the therapy that had sustained her through many challenges — quiet time with nature. After asking the nuns of the village to look after Carmella, this strong young woman wrapped some seeds in a handkerchief and started on the mile-long walk to the family garden plot. On the way, she passed an older gentleman sitting in the village square.
“Where are you going, Isabella?” he asked.
“Out to plant some seeds,” she responded.
“Aaahhh,” the wise old man predicted. “Plant them if you will; but you won’t live to see them bloom.”
Isabella died in 1981 at age 99.
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| Mama Tony - Isabella Piccolella Gervasio |
I know Isabella’s story well. She was “Mamma Tony” to me, my grandmother and my role model — on all things gardening and on many things about life and living. (In the old Italian custom, a grandmother was called Mamma followed, out of respect, by her husband’s name — in this case, Antonio or Tony.)
In Tomorrow’s Blooms, you’ll learn more about Mamma Tony, my Slovak grandmother Katerina Slezak, my father Victor and other family members and friends whose green thumbs have inspired me since I was a youngster. And, hopefully, you’ll find practical and inspirational gardening ideas from the creative staffers of Loveland Greenhouse, known regionally and beyond for their engaging (often unpredictable) creativity. I mean, who plants a grand piano with moss? But I digress. . .
A flowering smorgasbord
When Mamma Tony came to America in 1930, my mother (Annina Maria Gervasio) was 9-years-old. The Gervasio family rented a salt-box house on Woodlawn Avenue in Middletown, Ohio. Eventually, they were able to purchase it; and Mamma Tony lived there until her passing. The unusual depth of the homestead begged for a long row of flowering perennials and annuals along the fence. How deliciously fragrant were the climbing roses, lilacs, daisies, lilies of the valley and Mamma Tony’s prized St. Anthony lilies (to mention just a few).
One of my earliest memories of gardening was planting a handful of morning glory seeds along the fence, with Mamma Tony’s help, of course. Even though that was 60-plus years ago, I can still recall the thrill of seeing my first blue flower. I was a gardener at age 4!
That large flower bed (the small sibling of the huge vegetable garden that covered most of the backyard) was like a botanical smorgasbord for me, my brother, cousins and friends. Unlike some grouchy grannies who cringed if any kid got near her garden, Mamma Mia encouraged us to cut a flower or two to “taka to your mamma” (or to simply enjoy, even if it was a momentary pleasure to kids with short attention spans). If my brother grew bored with a daisy after a minute or three, Mamma Mia would laughingly pick it up off the ground and put it in a Mason Jar vase — if I didn’t retrieve it first. I never throw a bloom away, even to this day.
Botanical bar
Loveland Greenhouse evokes fond memories of my gardening family and experiences. Particularly during this season of the Earth’s rebirth, the colors, textures, fragrances and overall beauty of Mother Nature’s seedlings-turned-blossoms are mood-boosters that you just can’t find in a pill, tonic, book, movie or glass of wine (although I’ve been known to combine the latter with my love of gardening; but I digress. . .)
The creativity of Loveland Greenhouse is what really speaks to my soul. Its latest attraction, a Botanical Bar, is a prime example. Gardening Do-It-Yourselfers are encouraged to “belly up the bar” and create a living work of art, with the assistance of the Greenhouse pros. The Bar’s terrariums are particularly lovely — and easy to create. In fact, I frequently create/purchase hostess gifts at the Bar.
Sometimes, I just drop by to breathe in the beauty of the season. Like I said, it’s a “feel-good” experience that no pharmaceutical can match. And I think that has something to do with the memories of Mamma Tony that my mini-retreats with Mother Nature evoke.
Terrariums 21st century style
Remember when those terrariums of the 1970s were all about creating small eco-systems in giant brandy snifters, plastic globes and/or (gasp!) hanging from macramé hangers? Those kooky versions are so old-school. Today’s terrariums are artsy, kicky and eye-popping. Just head for the Loveland Greenhouse Botanical Bar and feed your inner-eco-gardener.
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| It's easy to create your own terrarium. |
Choose from a variety of interesting containers available or take your own. Think “repurpose.” How about a tiny terrarium for your children or grandchildren in an old-fashioned Mason Jar? Or in your grandma’s old glass perculator (if your lucky enough to have it, as I do my Mamma Tony’s). For a more sophisticated theme, consider a wine decanter or glass bubble hanging from a ceiling. The possibilities are limited only by your imagination.
The best part about these living works of art? They provide indoor plants with minimal care.
So love Mother Nature. Love your plants. Love your life-giving gardening projects. That’s easy to do at Loveland Greenhouse. Mamma Tony would have loved this place.
— Rose Huber
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