I was woken last Saturday by a knock at the door. Now those of you who know me, or have read my column over the years, know I’m not a good person to wake up on the weekend.
Add to that the fact I’m in London all week and you have one grizzly bear on your hands.
So the knock at about 11am on Saturday wasn’t a welcome one.
I even had a moan at Matt for making me get up to answer it.
Well, how guilty I felt when I was greeted with a giant bouquet of stunning flowers.
Matt was rather quiet upstairs, clearly revelling in the fact I had just moaned at him for not answering the door.
There was no particular reason for the flowers, but they really cheered me up.