With all this gorgeous weather hanging around, I seem to have changed my ‘reluctant’ gardener mindset into a persona, strangely resembling a bra-wearing Alan Titchmarsh.

Basking in the glow of Friday’s Royal Nuptials, I couldn’t resist in the guilty pleasure of feeling like a princess for the day. I resisted the urge to don my wedding dress (mainly as it doesn’t go past my thighs any more).

My needs are simple – all I want is breakfast in bed. Nothing fancy - no Eggs Benedict on my pillow, just some nice toast, thick with butter and jam and a builder’s mug of tea. Oh, and to be LEFT ALONE for just an hour.

The deprivation of a food group, alcohol or favourite pastime shouldn’t be too hard but already, I’m hesitating. Somehow, my willpower/staying power/motivation left me in the maternity ward several years ago. I’ve turned into procrastinor rather than terminator.

With all the lovely floral numbers in the shop windows, I’m wondering at what point I should be out of boots and scarves and into that ‘between season’ area of my wardrobe.