I do a lot of fantasising.
Start with the garden porn and a glass of wine or two. make a list of all the things I would like to grow, given ideal soil, a hunky bloke to do the donkey work, and limitless money. I just waft around in a floaty dress on an ideal summers day, not too hot that I burn.The big hat keeps off the sun, so as not to freckle my porcelain skin. I pick a few perfect blossoms and place them in a trug, so i can arrange them in that perfect vase. I return to the terrace and the under butler brings a cooling glass of Pimms, while we wait for dinner.........and of course I have perfectly manicured hands.
Then the wine wears off, I cross out most of the things on the list because they don't suit my soil, and I go and wash the kitchen floor for the umpteenth time, because of the mud that gets trailed in from the garden.