We don’t often have cut flowers in the house. It is not that I have anything against them, and I invariably admire them in others’ homes, it just seldom happens. Embarrassingly I have friends who are growers and naturally always champion British flowers. As we have a very small garden any blooms are best left in situ and for some mysterious reason I am seldom bought them. At this time of year I relent. The moment I see the first daffodils of the year I am lost. The sight alone of them bundled up, still tight in bud, brings a thrill. To me they represent a corner turned. Once safely transported home, hopefully still with all their heads intact, they are ensconced in my favourite vase. Over the next few days they gradually unfurl their petals releasing their welcome perfume, reminding us of what joys are to come.