Chrysanthemum is one of my favourite picture stories. Sadly, I am less keen on the flower. I find all the mums sitting on trolleys in nurseries and corner shops, well, a bit mumsy looking. Of course, any flower in white is heaps better, and If this landed on my doorstep, I’d pop it in a mason jar and bring it to our thanksgiving table.

Last night, with both the little ones in bed, Iole and I sat  in the dimmed light of her room talking about things. “Can I tell you something really, really important?” I said to her, as she sat in her bed peeling away the polish from her big toe. “When you think something nice about somebody, tell them.” In her rules to live by, Katie Couric says, “Don’t hoard compliments. Recognize someone’s talents and let them know. And if someone else says something nice about them, pass it on. It will make their day.” It bothers me when people are frugal with compliments, especially as a person’s day could so easily be lifted by a few kind words from a friend or stranger. “I love the red of your hair,” “those dance moves are the bomb,” “your kids are lucky to have a mum like you.” Years ago, at the cafe at Holt Renfrew I stopped a lady to compliment her on her coat.  It was dove grey and long, with big, beautiful mink cuffs. “You are so elegant,” I said.  She was clearly taken a back by the compliment. “No one has ever said that about me before. You just made my day.”