One of my favourite bloggers, Lady Smaggle, recently issued a challenge to list your 10 most favourite things in the whole world. I didn’t do it. I started thinking about it — she said it was hard, and she was right. But while I can’t list (just) 10, I will state one: fresh flowers. The flower stall is right at the entrance of the farmers markets I go to, so it’s the last thing you pass when going back to the car, hands juggling bags of fruit and veg, keys, money, phone. Despite all this juggling (it’s a regular circus act, doing the shopping) somehow we always manage to walk off with a fresh, bright bunch of blooms. I don’t really have a favourite flower — sometimes poppies, sometimes proteas, sometimes roses — so all the bunches must be inspected to see which one captures the mood best. On arrival home they get sorted out along with the rest of the purchases, a vase found and stems cut. Mostly I put them on the dining table, where every morning the sun streams through the windows and lights up the colours to cheer up breakfast.