You express satisfaction with your life very well: many of your posts tell us about a life filled with friends, nature, and good wine. We got that. So what are your frustrations? What don't you like about being a writer?

What I like about writing? It's another way to communicate the message  garden care, new plants, paying attention, embracing struggle, celebration of life, gratitude  all of the things I would like gardeners and home-landscapers to remember. It's a good way to remind myself of these things too.

What don't I like about writing? It's hard work. You do it once, and then go over it again, and again and again. Once complete, it can be hard to sell, or you may sell it for not much money. Writing is not physical; it may exercise the mind, but the body can be neglected for hours. Carpel tunnel syndrome, typos, difficulty getting started, trouble with endings, editors cutting out all the 'wrong' parts, the patience required for long pieces, rejection slips these are the things I dislike about writing.

What do I not like about writing?
1. Editors who don't have a clue about the topic they're editing. I encounter them way too often because publishers hire the cheapest person they can get.
2. Proof readers who think they know more about the topic than the writer and try to change the text. That leads to food fights which are not fun because they tend to be mean and hit below the belt.
3. Writers who steal your ideas and try to get them into print before you do.
4. Writers who "mine" your work after it is published.
5. Writer wannabees who throw their weight around and try to give professional writers advice about the craft of writing.
6. PR people who drive you to distraction and try to push stuff down your gullet, no matter how often you tell them, "Thank you, I don't need your help." And who take full credit if you even brush on anything in which they have a commercial interest -- no matter how remote. (Like when you accidentally bump into them at a garden, inn, restaurant, or shop and find out later that they took credit for introducing you to it.)
7. Publishers who don't pay enough (none ever do, of course.)

I am beginning to learn that there is quite a large difference between talking about a garden, penning casual notes about plants, and writing down precise observations.

I spent most of my morning crawling through a garden to get a good look at emerging ferns, lichens, and mosses, and I seem to be encountering an uncommon number of road blocks to clear verbal expression.

While I find it easy to distinguish between lichens on the one hand, and liverworts and mosses on the other, I have troubles telling one species from another (except for the most obvious ones). It also seems there should be a better way to describe the delicate green whorls sent up by mosses -- besides the mundane "stems and leaves." And how about their textures, their dryness or moistness of surfaces, films or dustings, and the flowing shapes of their dimpled mounds?

Even now, at the height of winter, when few flowers bloom, I am grasping for words to properly describe them. Unfortunately, English has too few words to describe flowers (I'm trying to stay away from horticultural or scientific jargon that means little or nothing to the average reader), and there are only so many times I can use the terms blossom, bloom, blow, floret, flower, inflorescence, at al. without becoming annoyed by constant repetition.

But the good news is that even in January, the dreariest month of the year, I can find a lot in my garden to write about.

Oh, well. 'Nuff of that. Back to the garden.

CL, "What don't you like about being a writer?" would make an excellent topic for a new post on this forum.

Eddie:
You're right. It would.

I write under deadline, mostly, so the job can be stressful at times. But the act of writing is never stressful for me. And I love the fact that it is a solitary job -- conducted in quiet and without interruptions unless I'm in a self-sabotaging mood and do the interrupting myself. Like today -- I've got a nasty case of bronchitis that's hung on for weeks but I don't have to put on matching clothes, drive my car on to the crowded freeway, and inch my way to work with everyone else. I wrap a shawl around my shoulders, grab my mug of hot tea and walk up to my attic office, where my cat has already stretched out in the sun on the loveseat and an orchid is blooming in the window. I think of myself as a word-smith; a skilled craftsman rather than an artist, and like a craftsman I put my heart into what I do no matter who's going to be buying the finished product. I love my work, and I'm so grateful to be able to do it. And yes, the only thing that would make it better would be better pay.