Prop Tales 24 "Wintertime, Ed cares for the plants inside. During ...

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"Wintertime, Ed cares for the plants inside. During summer, Sandy takes care of them outside. Having our terrace makes life livable. We're very happy in our garden heaven."

   —Ed Linderman, 57,

composer/vocal coach,

and Sandy Levitt, 63,

president, Manhattan Tour & Travel

HEN THE WEATHER warms, Ed Linderman and Sandy Levitt take to their terrace garden.

Their green oasis wraps around their tiny three-room penthouse atop a West Side luxury high rise. Measuring 460 square feet, the garden is more than double the size of the one-bedroom lair they've shared for 32 years.

"We wanted outdoor access—rooftop or backyard. I didn't like downstairs gardens because other people look down on you and you have no privacy," says Linderman.

"Not to mention that brownstone gardens were unsafe in this neighborhood—which was a crime-ridden slum when we arrived," adds Levitt. "We took this apartment because the terrace is huge, although the interior is small."

"I think the apartment's smallness is why our relationship has worked. You've got to get along if you're living together in three tiny rooms, especially when you're sharing space with 30 plants. We do that during winter—we bring everything in except our sand cherries, curly willows and evergreens. Our apartment becomes a hothouse where we're second citizens to our plants. Actually, living in a bower is cozy and enjoyable," quips Linderman.

They return geraniums, Moses in the Cradle and Wandering Jews to the terrace in late April, early May, before buying new rose bushes, morning glories, petunias, marigolds and other flowering flora at the 77th St. farmers‚ market. The annual tab: $100.

"That's little to spend for so much pleasure," says Levitt. "We home-grow, too. The geraniums and willows come from cuttings. We're real good with fertilizers."

"This year, we're painting—cranberry color. That'll cost another $100, but the garden will be especially pretty this season," says Linderman.

Gardening weekends only, they clear leaves, grime and other winter residue. It takes them until June to finish the seasonal spruce-up.

June through October, they smell the roses, dine al fresco and entertain friends, spending more time on the terrace than indoors.

Evolving over the years, the garden has presented challenges.

"When we moved in, there was a beautiful rock garden. They said we couldn't keep it because it caused leaks. The super stowed the dirt in an old-fashioned lion-legged bathtub that was abandoned on the roof. We planted a friend's mint cutting in the bathtub. Soon one little cutting became a whole bathtub of mint. They said we couldn't keep the bathtub because it caused leaks. The super took the bathtub (and the mint) to the building courtyard outside his apartment. We were using the remaining rocks for decoration. They said the rocks were too heavy and caused leaks. The super took the rocks to his apartment. Frankly, I think he was just raiding our garden. But he's no longer here and all that good stuff disappeared with him," says Levitt. "But we've got lots of good stuff, and the garden's matured with us," says Linderman. "The trees we brought up here as tiny saplings are now full-grown. If we ever moved, we'd have to leave them."

Ed and Sandy aren't moving. They have a great deal: They pay less than $1000 for their rent-stabilized dwelling.

"When we moved in, the next-door penthouse—smaller and with less terrace space—rented for $93 per month. Recently, it listed for

$451,000. Other coops in the building sold for over a million. I figure ours would cost a million plus," says Linderman.

"When the building cooped 22 years ago, we couldn't afford to buy. We would've jumped from low-rent to high-maintenance. We figured the monthly nut would have been $1500. That's more than our current rent," says Levitt.

"Rent controls prevent New York from becoming a city just for the rich and the poor. Without rent stabilization, Sandy and I couldn't have had our life and careers in New York. We're renters in a posh co-op building, so we're not always given the best service. But that's okay—we're still able to live in Manhattan," says Linderman. "This is our home. And we love it." o