Medieval Sunday: Aloe Relo & Patio Scrub-a-thon

Medieval Sunday (or any day for that matter) has been a ritual since I moved into FPR. Typically something happens internally that causes me to gain precision focus for a period of hours until I have made a significant dent, if not having completed, some to-do around the house. I get to the work location, usually my office or the yard, and get nuts whenever said switch flips or my chemical imbalance reaches meltdown proportions. The last time this happened was when I couldn't get tickets for the Saints v Texans game.

Today, I went medieval on the backyard and patio. Nothing particular set me off other than being sick of being in my house. The patio was a wreck, but it's too miserable to sit outside. I guess I just got tired of looking at the crap that had accumulated out there and the viney growth that was beginning to swallow the damn thing.

For an hour, I trimmed the vines, swept the pavers and generally straightened up the dump. I was amazed at how great everything looked. Who knew that a little elbow grease could get such results? Shut it. Another hour saw me wash the patio furniture and Round-up the cracks. No, I do not mean collecting hookers.

Emboldened by the progress on the patio, I set my sights on the eyesore of the backyard: the aloe tree. The ranch's previous owner allowed an aloe plant to grow so large that it busted the plastic pot in which it lived. It was currently sprawling across the space between the oak and the crepe myrtle.

I got medieval on it today; it sprawls no longer. I replanted two of the largest pods in the space where I went medieval on the bouganvilla. I gave away four that I potted and the rest are sitting in my front yard near the street.

Anybody need some aloe? Swing by before these suckers take root in my grass.

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