I'd almost forgotten what it was like ... a day without rain. Far too nice to stay home, so I headed off to Columbia Road to buy flowers.

Which is always a difficult decision. Do you buy two bunches for five? Or three rather more desirable ones for ten? Or do you hang on for the four for ten frenzy at 4pm?

Should it be a sheaf of 50 tulips? Or a bargain basement box of cheerful primulas?

But in the end I chose a massive armful of soleil d'or narcissi which cost a fiver and there was no way she was going to reduce them.

And a pot of seven white hyacinths for £3.50.

And the bargain of the day was a sheaf of pale pink orchids that the stallholder was chucking away so I rescued it from the gutter. The other ladies who dived in quickly were very pleased too.

Just as well I didn't buy the primulas because my arms were getting tired.

I'd like you to imagine the vase of orchids on my desk.

But what with 12 library books, a mug, last night's wineglass, dozens of notebooks, two diaries, last week's Guardian and this month's Vogue  - and that's only the top layer -

You'll understand why I plonked them on the windowsill.