The End of an Era: Why We’re Retiring Lithops at Spine City Nursery
The End of an Era: Why We’re Retiring Lithops at Spine City
Every now and then we reach the end of an era at Spine City. It’s happened a few times over the years, and it always comes with a mix of relief, pride and a little bit of sadness.
Today’s chapter closes on Lithops - at least for the nursery side of things.
Before anyone panics, let’s get one thing clear:
Retiring something from the nursery does not mean I stop growing it personally.
In the case of Lithops, this decision is purely business. I adore these plants. I always have.
My personal collection sits at over 400 plants and will probably settle around 500 once the final seedlings move off the nursery benches and into the personal collection.
I’ll still grow them for myself - that part won’t change.
But realistically, it wasn’t a sustainable line to keep producing.
The Honest Reason: The Return Never Matched the Investment
Every Lithops, Dinterops and Dinteranthus that ever passed through Spine City was grown from seed - no divisions, no shortcuts. And I invested heavily into that seed.
Some seed batches took years of searching, sourcing and paying a premium for.
It really came down to two things: demand wasn’t strong and they take years to grow properly
The way I choose to grow these plants is not the way the commercial world often does it.
I grow slowly.
Full mineral mix.
Low and tight.
Three to four years before they’re up to size.
Lithops can be pushed fast by flooding them with water, fertilizer and low light - you get big, puffy bodies quickly… and extremely weak plants.
Rot-prone, disease-prone, pest-prone.
That’s often the commercial standard.
It’s not mine.
I don’t run two systems - the way I grow for myself is the way I grow for the nursery.
The result? Lithops became the least sustainable line in Spine City.
Years of work, years of bench space, and a return that simply didn’t match the effort.
Slow-Grown Strength Comes With a Cost
In seven years of growing Lithops, I’ve never used any pesticide on them. Not once.
I grew them slowly, and because of that, they simply didn't need it.
Their natural defences handled everything.
The method works.
They look better for it too - tighter, stronger plants overall.
Would I do it differently?
No.
We don’t deviate from the Spine City method.
The Hybrid Dream That Never Quite Happened
Of course I wanted to hybridise them. You know me.
That hasn’t changed - it might still happen personally.
But for the nursery? Probably not.
At one point I grew hundreds of varieties, but the broader Spine City audience never really connected with Lithops the way they do with cactus - especially Lobivia.
And that’s okay.
People love different things for different reasons. It’s part of the beauty of this hobby.
The Slow Goodbye
I actually made the decision to discontinue them two years ago, but moving stock out of the nursery takes a long time.
When I grow something, I don’t grow 20 or 30 or even 50 - I grow hundreds. And it takes a while for that volume to work its way out.
We’re down to the final stretch now: probably around a thousand plants left that were originally destined for sale. Some will join my personal collection.
The rest will move on in their own time.
As a Collector, It’s Bittersweet
I’m sitting in front of them as I write this.
I look at them and still think: How can people not be obsessed with these?
But the truth is simple:
My audience doesn’t resonate with Lithops the same way I do.
It’s frustrating on one hand… and totally understandable on the other.
Collectors follow their hearts. They chase what captivates them.
I can’t fault anyone for that - it’s what led me to Lithops in the first place.
My Personal Collection Will Live On
Even when the nursery no longer grows them, I will.
They’re not for everyone, and that’s fine - I still like them.
I use Lithops, Conophytum and others as living gauges for where the seasons actually are - far more accurate than a calendar.
They tell me when things shift, when growth begins, when rest is coming. They’re anchors.
If you grow Lithops at home, the How to Grow Lithops guide remains. I wrote it from scratch after years of raising them from seed.
Maybe one day Lithops will have their moment, and I’d welcome that - not from the nursery side of things, but because more people would get to enjoy these wonderful plants.
As this chapter comes to its close - almost - I think back to sowing that dust-like seed and watching those tiny jelly bodies form and develop. It’s been a good chapter.
Lithops taught me a lot, and strangely enough, much of it transferred directly into how I grow cactus today.
It wasn’t the most profitable chapter—but it was a valuable one.
If you’d like to see the preserved part of this chapter, the Lithops Archive shows a glimpse of the plants that moved through our tunnels over the years.
