The Greenhouse Odyssey: Eleven-I’m No Shrinking Violet!
By Lorraine Miller
The African violet was awarded the 2024 Houseplant of the Year by the National Garden Bureau.
“Do they make that plant in blue?” Customers often ask. I was always surprised at the question, never sure who the ‘they’ were, but didn’t dare ask.
Gardenias, CycIamen, Azaleas, and Begonias, none have blue flowers. There are several blue flowering plants for the garden, but only one I know of that can be grown as a houseplant. That is the African violet. African violets are native to East Africa and in the wild, there are only 6 species. Their flowers are only 'made’ in blue. But since the 1930s, when African violets first became popular, hybridizers have created over 75 cultivars. Cultivars are manmade, either through careful cross-pollinization or through leaf cuttings. Leaf cuttings are taken from oddballs (or, to use a scientific term I never liked, mutations). For example, let’s say we come across a violet with pink splotches on its leaves. It’s an oddball. If we pollinate its flower with another violet, the offspring may not have the pink spot because the seeds carry the genes of both parents. Characteristics can vary. But if we take a leaf cutting, one leaf with the pink variegation, and root it in soil, the new growth will always have the pink variegation. New cultivars may include clones of curly, extra-hairy, variegated, or pointy leaves. The flower shape might be described as single, double, double-double, star, bell, or wasp. The once only blue African violet flowers are now 'made’ white, pink, purple and blue, with every shade and color combination in between. They might be miniature, large or even trailing.In 1983, I wondered, what kind of business am I growing? Can my once only cactus greenhouse lead to other cultivars?
I’ve been reading some business books. Here’s what I learned: There are two things a business must do: make money and generate cash. A business has to make money so that it can grow. Growth is essential.
Simply put, if a business doesn’t grow, it shrinks or stagnates. Growth doesn’t necessarily mean a larger place. It might mean new ideas, new products or new services. Generating cash is critical because you have to cover payroll and pay the bills. Don’t forget taxes! It’s good to pay the bills on time. Good credit greases the wheels for the future. Whatever the reason, expansion usually means more investment, financing, obligations, and risk. It’s only done for two reasons: to make money and to generate cash.
Ownership carries a different personal weight than being an employee. In addition to the pressure and pleasure of making money, an owner’s job description is all about compassing. An owner is the janitor, bookkeeper and advertising department, especially in the beginning. That’s a good thing.
Ownership is an opportunity to self-actualize, to discover skills you don’t know you have and to polish ones you do. To stretch yourself. To become all you can be. To open your arms wide.
When the Erickson’s decided to retire three years early and gave me use of their gallery in front of the property, The Southwest Shop took up residence. My partners in the shop knew it was short-term—three years at best. That time was coming to an end. I have a plan! No. Let’s call it an idea. Here it is: I’ll turn the chinchilla shed into a garden gift shop. When the gift shop is complete, I’ll demolish the building that once housed Phranques Gallery and the Southwest Shop and put in parking. That will require a new entry and new fencing.
The idea of a gift shop was not without foundation. Customers were looking for more than houseplants and pottery, more than fertilizer and dirt. They wanted birdhouses, and windchimes, plant stands, and garden art. I could fulfill those needs. Built in the 1940s, the shed was an oddball, a building with distinct characteristics that were as expensive to demolish as to remodel. Perhaps, with careful nurturing, it could be as unique as a ‘Champagne Pink’ African violet.
Then there was the possibility of a parking lot. No matter how small, a parking lot would be HUGE. With the building in front demolished, the greenhouses could be seen from the street. I’ve been here for eight years with no visibility and no parking! This would rock my world, solve so many problems. Now, I could focus on the retail and interior plant maintenance pieces of business and let the less profitable wholesale part slip away.
When I applied for a permit to remodel, the city inspector was difficult. He seemed to struggle with the extraordinary idea of a chinchilla shed being made into a gift shop.
He stewed over every detail and I tried to answer all his concerns. He finally whittled his worry down to one big issue, an issue he couldn’t let go of. Since the chinchilla shed was built in the 1940s, it did not comply with ‘set back’ or side yard’ code. It was only three feet from the neighbors’ property. It needed to be ten feet. The inspector couldn’t shake or solve the problem. I thought he was going to give me a flat out ‘NO’. But, he didn’t. He finally came up with a solution he thought to be modern and commercial. His idea was to erect a ten-foot-tall cinderblock fire wall on the property line.
Wait a minute! “Are you suggesting I build a ten-foot-high cinderblock wall three feet away from the outside wall of a ten-foot-high cinderblock building (with a metal roof) to protect against fire? His strange logic meant I had to get creative. I came up with an uncanny way out.
I knocked on my neighbor Ron’s front door. His property abutted the Erickson’s so the chinchilla shed was three feet from his property line. I explained my building permit dilemma. He laughed. The shed had been there since he was born. I asked if he would sell me ten running feet of his yard, giving me a thirteen-foot side yard and putting me in compliance with building code. I told him that when the construction was over and the permit was signed off, I would deed back the ten feet and pave the parking area in front of his house. At the time, Twentieth East had no curb or gutter. He agreed. We shook hands on it and when I was ready to leave, he asked, ‘Hey, when are you going to buy my place?’ I laughed. Now that my idea was close to a plan and the zoning hurdles were conquered, I went to Valley Bank, my original mortgage holder.
I was a little worried because there was a new banker at Valley and he didn’t know me. His name was Richard Gray. When I told him my history about digging post holes with charcoal briquets and buying my neighbor’s backyard and then explained my new idea to remake the shed into a gift shop and to demolish the building I wanted to borrow against, he stared at me like I was completely deranged. But he agreed to come for a tour.
Richard was a wonderful advocate for small business. Throughout his career, he worked with banks that were ‘Preferred Lenders’ with the SBA, or Small Business Administration. When he came to visit my scattered bits of business (my leaf cuttings), he was thoughtful. I had no idea how he was assessing things from a banker’s point of view. He smiled as I showed him around. He asked a few questions, but mostly he was thoughtful. I walked him from the cactus house through the foliage greenhouses, pointed out the Southwest Shop and asked him to picture a parking lot in its place. I led him into the 30’x70’ chinchilla shed. There are no lights to flip on. Sunlight streamed through the south windows, casting shadows and light. The place was alluring, a little magical.
I believe Richard saw more clearly the roots of my idea than I did. He understood entrepreneurism and viewed it as an art.
He was moved by it like some people are moved by a beautiful symphony. I’m not saying I’m an artist but, here was someone, (a banker, of all occupations!) that saw possibility in me and was willing to take a chance. He gave me the loan without my brother’s signature!
One last thought about African violets. Each of the 75 cultivars is a completely new creation, a variety never grown before. Each is ‘made’ by someone willing to jump hurdles and spend the time to ensure a cutting takes root and grows, that its unique traits are stable and carried through future generations.
Contrary to popular opinion, there is no such cultivar as a Shrinking Violet. I’m certainly not one!