I cry when I'm happy, I cry when I'm sad. I cried the other night watching some family getting back together on some documentary.

Walking along Oxford Street on Saturday pulling a shopping trolley that my mother bought me. I remember saying, “I’m never going to use that!” and there I was, very grateful to have it in my life. She died before Christmas and I can’t ring her to tell her that she was right.

Our beautiful cat was so ill that we were hours away from having her put down. Somehow, we’ve managed to nurse her back to full health again.

Last week, because of an ear infection: I cried my eyes out when they put a big injection into my arse.

Losing the people I love.

I get up at 7am. No radio. No telly. Quiet. I feed the chickens and the cat. Cup of tea. Read the paper. On my own - half an hour just to come round.

Having a family can be a rude awakening for some people but it wasn't like that for me. I've absolutely loved it and I still do. I've got two daughters, Polly and Camilla, in their late 20s now. You get these people who say, "Wait for the terrible twos," and, yes, they've had the odd flounce, but they've got increasingly joyful to be around. My wife Alice and I are very close to them and value their company hugely.

Eric Idle’s Always Look on the Bright Side of Life. That’s me, really.

I try to be a Sherlock Holmes of botany. It's not enough to enjoy plants – I want to know why they are wilting, to work things out.

My inability to play the piano.