Another sign that I'm not really a gardener

Okay, two more signs.

#1: I *had* a gorgeous, bright green, lush (if such is possible) aloe starter plant given to me by Ben's mom from her own established plant. Mine, wierdly enough, soon overtook hers for gorgeousness. We both tend to let our plants sit and forget about them a bit, so I can't claim any aloe plant competence here, but they are somewhat hard to kill, for which I am thankful. I gave another plant (another gift) a sunburn. Maybe I should have rubbed some aloe on it to help with the sting.

You can, actually, kill an aloe plant when you put it in the back of the family vehicle and then let Ben (he's a maniac, maaaaniaac, for suuurreeeeee) drive. It fell over. It dumped out. It fell apart. It basically had no root system, and my big, gorgeous, lush plant fell apart into lots of little aloe plant clumps. All the Ben's horses and all the Ben's men couldn't put aloe plant back together again. About half of it got put back in the pot and now it looks...transplanted. Brown, limp, sickly, not lush. And I love the word lush. Maybe one day it will be lush again. I say that this is a sign that I'm not a gardener because yes, it was my decision to let the poor aloe plant fend for itself in the back of the family car. Unloved. Not buckled in. Allllll byyyyy itselllll-e-elllllffffff. And now it looks pathetic again.

#2: I have been outside exactly once this summer doing anything worth anything. I basically just plant things and then forget about them. My thistles and weeds tend to overshadow my plants. But, I do have very hearty, healthy thistles.