How did you get started? Ambling through Inverness one day, admiring the shrubs in the park, a lamppost hit me on the side of the head. Painful. I expect we've all done that.

As a full-time gardener in the Highlands of Scotland I don't encounter lampposts all that often, but I do encounter extremities of weather. Despite this, you have to get on with the job.

What does your typical day involve? One day last February (early morning) I put the cackling ducks out - they spend the night in the kitchen on account of the sly fox that killed the unsuspecting hens - fed the bleating goats and finally, fatally, tied my boot laces just as the dog beside me shook his head in a most vigorous manner, resulting in a sequence of rapid slaps across my face with his ears. Not really what you want first thing in the morning, is it?

One early morning in May began with a crow hammering on the kitchen window with its beak - just the sort of antisocial behavior that encourages running around the garden in garden boots and boxer shorts flourishing a newly bought Irish spade, shouting "Oi, oi, oi" at the rising sun. So that was followed by a spot of cultivation at Mrs Mac's vegetable plot in Dornoch and some pruning of Leylandii in Tain. So, there are no typical days, really.

What is the best part of your job? I meet many fascinating characters, none more so than "Bingo", an ex-RAF man who likes nothing better than burning weeds with a flame thrower. Between us we have created a minimalist garden landscape with some memorable features that reflect his passion for power tools.

What does the future hold? I'm never too sure what even the next moment might hold.