I love gardening, once I've broken the 'it's too cold' barrier. Once out there, I don't care about anything. We have a medium sized suburban garden backing onto a small area of woodland so the back of the garden we've made into a woodland garden - after years being a wild untamed wilderness. There's a herb patch, a pond which DH has recently re-lined and we've dug out the bindweed and other nasties from round it. I'm busy planting up the pond and its surroundings and working my way down the garden, weeding, pruning and re-planting. I'm a plantaholic but sometimes find plants struggle because parts of the garden is heavy, badly drained clay despite adding compost. I've had periods when the garden's been neglected - after my wrist fracture, for instance - and it doesn't take Nature long to reclaim her own. I have a constant fight with bramble, nettles, bracken and bindweed, but I still love it. It's not neat and tidy; it's messy and untamed and my MIL disapproves of it, but it's ours and wherever we go, wherever we move, I want it with us.