Meet Jon — The Proprietor

The Plantry Plant Co. · Personnel File No. 003

A note from Mr. Phileas Plant — Every member of this company has a file, and I write them. The Proprietor asked to write his own. Having read it, I would not change a word. — P.P.

How this all started

In the summer of 2020 I was gardening — corn, peppers, cucumbers — in a little patch behind my house in Harrison, Ohio. I liked growing things, but I wasn't a plant person. Not yet.

That July, my dad passed away. At his memorial, we were given plants — the kind people send when there isn't anything to say. I didn't know much about keeping houseplants alive. I just knew I couldn't let those ones die.

So I learned. Clumsily at first. I kept them going as long as I could, and when winter came and the garden was done, I bought a few more plants — partly to keep growing something, partly because the house felt better with green in it. I struggled, watched a hundred YouTube videos, struggled less. Somewhere in there, keeping plants alive in memory of someone turned into a genuine love of keeping plants alive.

The name

By 2022 the plants had well outgrown the windowsills, and I wanted to try selling them. I had no idea what to call it. My friend Matt started listing names, and when he said "The Plantry Plant Co." — that was it. I'd always wanted it to feel like a vintage apothecary: a well-kept pantry of green things, every jar labeled, tended by someone who knows what each one is for. The Plantry felt like that room.

I was honestly a little afraid to move forward back then. My friend Michael kept encouraging me until I took the first real steps — and now there's an online shop, and you can find me most weekends at the Richmond Farmers Market.

The greenhouse (which is a sunroom, and we love her anyway)

Everything you see in the shop grows in the sunroom of the home I share with Jose, Winston, and Silas. There's a grow tent with lights and a humidifier where the propagations get their start, and the rest of the residents are spread across the room, arguing over the best sun. Jose builds whatever the plants need next — shelves, stands, solutions — and hauls the tables at the farmers market, which is its own kind of green thumb. Winston supervises. Silas naps supportively.

And the gentleman with the monocle

I always said every apothecary needs a botanist behind the counter. That's how Mr. Phileas Plant came to be — the patient, honest guide I wish I'd had in 2020: the kind who tells you what a plant needs, admits when he isn't certain, and never makes you feel foolish for asking. He writes the plant introductions, sends the Dispatch, and generally runs the place better than I do.

Why I do this

Because it started with trying to keep a few plants alive in memory of someone I loved — and it turned into a life full of green. Every plant that leaves the greenhouse is a chance for that to happen to somebody else.

Come say hi at the market. 🌿

— Jon