My dad has been mad this week because moss is growing on our roof. He wanted to get it off, so he began watching video tutorials on how to do so.
Some had different solutions. One had a man scrape it off with plastic tools then spray on this white stuff called Cory's Moss B Ware. Another had two men get on a roof with harnesses, pull it off, and then pour bleach on the roof.
After a few days, he took out our tallest ladder, put it on the patio, and secured a rope around his waist. He tied the rope to a post holding up the patio. Then, once the rope had no more slack, he started removing moss on the other side of the roof.
He threw it into our small rock garden below, and it landed PERFECTLY in the dirt. Seriously. Does it not look like it's always been there?
It was lucky, because we wanted a moss garden there anyways. And we got it. And it was awesome.
"It landed like a cat on its feet!" Dad said.
"Moss doesn't have feet," I replied.
"Well, cats do."
"Whatever."
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