We mentioned our aloes in the last post, they appear to be on a bid for freedom from their red Ikea pots that seemed so very huge when we bought them to house our growing Medusas. We discovered the mammy plant abandoned on our balcony when we first arrived, toppled over in a cracked little pot and rolling slowly on its side in a most unnerving fashion in the breeze, along with a mouldering mop and a cigarette butt. She already had a little baby shoot that we later divided and planted up by itself, now rivaling mammy aloe in size.

Mammy aloe has pretty much been bullying our other plants lately, she’s reached right out of her pot and tried to bulldoze out over the lemons and the coffees and toppled herself over again, having sprouted lots of new little aloes in her wake. So it was definitely past time for a change.

Every now and then we’ll separate the offspring from the big aloes and our friends get new plants. It’s easy and a bit satisfying and involves plopping the plant out of its pot and easing the offshoots apart.

We ended up with 17 little aloes, and normally we’d let them grow bigger before separating them, but there were so many this time and we’ve got them in glass jars of water on the windowsill for the moment. At this point we’ll probably have to cast the net further for potential aloe guardians.

Next up, a wigwam to support the giantess (should’ve gone for a bigger pot again?).

Luckily we had also picked up some bamboo sticks to support the dwarf French beans we’re going to be planting in a month or so.

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By the way, this is what happens when you over water your aloe. In other words, if you do not provide adequate instruction to significant other before leaving town for a few days.

The leaves swell and droop, then sometimes they’ll fold downwards and eventually break off at the crease. You can see that the tip of one leaf on the left there has fallen victim. I suspect that secret watering may have been going on for some time in this case. Mammy aloe is also showing signs of over watering, especially in her lower leaves. We’re not too worried though, these are tough, resilient badboys, about the easiest plants to keep alive (even we’ve managed it, after all).

They’ve been with us the longest, cost us nothing and are the liveliest pot plants imaginable. But if you should wish to harvest a leaf, better ask nicely or your blossoming chilli plant nearby might just find itself with a broken stem.