I was brought up with beautiful gardens at home, at my grandparents house. My mum even made a tropical garden on the large balcony when we lived abroad. It was heaven to sit out in the heat surrounded by orchids of all different colours.
When I was in my 20s, we bought our first house from my dad so I inherited a lovely garden which was small and manageable. I still gardened with a baby, job and commute.
We then bought a bigger family house which has a really big garden. South West facing. At first it was an absolute swamp. Nothing other than mud. A couple of years ago we had the money to install a pergola, new fence and some raised beds.
It's not at all polished, it has a large lawn as the kids still play out on it. But I'm always planting things. I have lots of pots full of perennials. Not many seem to have flowered yet though. We have bifold doors and I can see the birds, hedgehogs and other wildlife on the lawn which is lovely.
When we have people over, we sit in the pergola with flowering clematis and honeysuckle surrounding us and I feel proud.
I hate going to my friend's garden. As much as I love her, her garden is so sad. Just decking and fake grass. Much tidier than mine but no life whatsoever.