I think it is to the constant perplexity of my wife that I find it very difficult to become in anyway enthusiastic about gardening.
Whilst I can’t be bothered to get excited about the prospect of plunging my hands in to a bag of compost and transferring it to a pot for something which either looks really nice or will make a lovely addition to a dinner. In fact, I have to admit, pretty much find anything to do with dirt disgusting. Slugs and snails are disgusting. Worms are pretty disgusting, but I entirely recognise their value to the garden. Slow worms however, are OK. No problem handling them.
I do not however have any problem cutting grass. We just spent about four hours clearing the soil of the front drive, no problem with that. As long as I can avoid direct contact with the things that cause me problems then I’m pretty much doing whatever.
In fact, I derive a fair bit of satisfaction from doing the jobs that I am able to do. I also love a well kept garden, but if it has a wild part and we can feed the birds then I am well happy.