I think that people who don’t garden tend to have a very idealistic view of what it must be like. Zen hours in a beautifully manicured cottage garden, surrounded by perfectly robust plants, just dripping in fresh produce. Nary a critter or weed to be seen. Beautiful, golden rays caressing your shoulders in warmth and gentle light. Cue the lounge chair and the obligatory margarita.
Spoiler alert: That ain’t reality.