Spring is the thing now. Our roof terrace is awash with colour. Pots of assorted sprawling daffodils. Others packed with tulips. The muscari are tiring, to be replaced with delicate, pointed, perpetual scarlet tulips. The lily of the valley have stirred. Otherworldly stems packed with tight, light-green flowers, readying to unfurl in all their scented glory. The magnolia stellata flowers have faded. Now it’s all about its sprouting leaf. The Bengal crimson rose is a mass of curled green. Unfolding blooms like pink paper handkerchiefs. The two covered root trainers double-sown with sweet peas respond to my urgent encouragement. The scented geranium is wildly shooting. The deep purple hellebore will soon rest for a while. Our windowboxes, too, leaf and stems tightly pruned, some plants to be replaced, others rehomed. The kitchen box is a mass of rosemary flower, attracting roaming bees, the year’s first insistent visitors. Some thyme will be refreshed. The marjoram is a mass of small, tight leaf. The living room is scented spring with anniversary flowers. A large vase of cherry blossom, tuberose and tulips. Elsewhere, extravagant pink blooms, a miniature pot of lily of the valley. The house takes a breath before the flowering year is unleashed. The kitchen table, where I write, overlooks my daughter Kala’s garden. Her back wall is strewn with clematis armandii. She is rethinking the space now. Re-seeding her lawn with wider borders. There may be a small vegetable bed for the first time, perhaps a few red corn and some salad leaves. Her thinking is yet to be resolved. There is a pot here packed with packets of Higgledy Garden flower seed that will need room to grow. Though they can wait a while. We will sow on, or close to, her mid-May birthday. Our flower-growing year is almost here. Now what are your planting plans?