Well mostly it's a garden of dogs trying to head-butt each other out of the way for prime hugging position but I've vowed that it is going to become more than that.
The last time I tried to do anything with gardening I planted some herbs.
Then I killed them.
Not on purpose or anything, I don't have a cursed black thumb, I was just 13 and never actually watered them or put any fertiliser on them and then was quite cross when they failed to flourish.
But this time will be different!
It began this afternoon when I realised that thanks to the valiant fur shedding efforts of The Labrador of Doom and her new sidekick Apocalypse Pup, creeping dirt and some crappy damn grass that is trying to grow in the dirt/hair composite, the drain along the back patio was blocked and was causing flooding on the odd occasion it rained.
So I found a trowel and a broom and spent an hour or so clearing it, hacking back the grass and sending the weirdie beetles scuttling away in panic.
And then whilst I was at it I trimmed some things.
Then I raked some things.
Then I picked up some branches and moved them.
Then I murdered some weeds and threw their corpses in the garbage bin.
And at the end of it my back hurt.
And my legs hurt.
And my arms hurt.
And I was sweaty and dishevelled and Apocalypse Pup had spent a good part of the time trying to trip me up or sticking his head down my shirt every time I bent over to pick something up off the ground.
But it's been ages since I worked that hard in that way.
I liked it.
I think I'd like to grown some things.
Guess I'll see how it goes.