When I'm in my 50s, I kind of think I'll want to be in a garden.
I must have flowers, always, and always.
I adore gardening and plan to take it up properly when I have a bit more time on my hands. Until then, I love pottering in garden centres. I'm totally low maintenance. I don't ask for fancy plants, just basic, long-lasting shrubs that look nice. But I am particular about flowers.
When I was a little girl, my grandfather, who I was very close to, used to grow yellow roses. He had yellow roses growing all the way up his drive.
I'm really good at growing roses.
I hardly have any spare time! But when I do, I garden a lot - I love plants and flowers.
I spend a ridiculous amount on pots, lilacs, and alliums.
Constance Spry was one of the first people to put flowers in urns and ceramic swans and other unusual containers, but her arrangements tended to be a little less full.
One sure way to lose another woman's friendship is to try to improve her flower arrangements.
If you are rich, you have lovely cars, and jars full of flowers, and books in rows, and a wireless, and the best sort of gramophone and meringues for supper.
I can't pass a plant stall without feeling I must have one. But my greatest extravagance, I suppose, is roses. We've got masses.
