ANALYSTS claim dinner parties are now becoming so popular that, by 2006, we will be throwing an average of one per household every three weeks. The reason is not just because cooking is so fashionable, but because people are spending more time and money than ever on their homes and want to show them off.

I can't imagine anything worse - like being trapped in a never-ending cycle of TV cookery and DIY shows. Because, if these figures are true, it means that every weekend we'll either be hosting a dinner party - which by now will involve not just slaving over a hot stove, but making sure the house is immaculate and the dining room restyled - or going to one - dragging a partner to the house of the neighbours he can't stand while persuading him that he really wants to see their new Mexican-themed conservatory.

As it is, people already feel under so much pressure to produce spectacular dinner party meals that more and more are buying gourmet supermarket ready-to-eat dishes and passing them off as their own.

But carrying this off is an art in itself. You have to remember to buy for at least double the number of mouths you have to feed. If a ready meal says "serves four" you can be sure it will only be enough for one or two people with small appetites. And you must pour everything into an assortment of your own well-worn casserole dishes and pots well before everyone arrives. And you have to add some home-made finishing touches, like a few stray hairs and lumps in the sauce.

Don't forget to hide all the packaging in a secure cupboard, under lock and key, because some nosey guests will be sure to peek in your bin to try to catch you out.

And if anyone asks for the recipe, you must be suitably vague. If someone has the gall to ask if you cooked it yourself, don't lie outright, just deflect the question with a sigh: "Ahh, where would we be without Delia?"

That's the meal sorted out. But why stop there? What about your home? Perhaps you could apply the same logic and hire a plush apartment for the evening. And a partner from an escort agency.

Or maybe, by 2006, we'll all have come to our senses and agree to meet for a pub meal and bring photos of our new kitchens/garden decking/loft extensions instead. If we must.

THERE has been much sniggering over the achievements of Britain's women's curling team - mainly from men. I quote from one letter to a newspaper from a Mr Colin Jeffrey, of York: "Watching someone shove what looks like an electric kettle while two others polish the ice with "kitchen mops" is ridiculous. Yet, at the Winter Olympics, they call this nonsense sport." But is a group of men dressed in white, hitting a ball with a bat, then running up and down as fast as they can between some wooden sticks before someone catches it, or 22 of them tearing around a field trying to kick a ball into two little white nets, really sensible by comparison?

WE are all going to have to work until we are 72 if we are to escape poverty in retirement. But doesn't this mean we will be condemning our children and grandchildren to the prospect of years on the dole as fewer new jobs open up for them?

Published: Friday, March 1, 2002