MORE men than women want to work from home. I blame it on the wallpaper. The best thing about working from home - which I've done for nearly 20 years - is that you don't have to get dressed properly, you can take a break whenever you like AND you get more work done - which gives you time to read the papers, potter in the garden or have lunch with friends.

Which is why more men are doing it. Increasing numbers are now working from home for at least part of the week. Well, that's a few more cars off the road.

Women, according to a new survey, are not so keen.

That's because we spend more than enough time here anyway. And unless you're married to a wonderful New Man (which most of us are not), home means work of a different kind. Which is why, after I'd typed that last paragraph, I went and sorted out the washing. After I've typed the next one I might tidy the kitchen... or start sorting something for supper... or polish the mucky marks off the brass fender.

Women, when they're at home all day, tend to notice things - like the grubby wallpaper or the little patch where the paint's worn off the window sill where the rain came in during the storms. Most men, on the whole, have an in-built ability to ignore things like that when they're working. Women can't.

Which is why most women prefer to work somewhere where the state of the loo is not their responsibility and someone else empties the rubbish. And where you don't have to step over the Lego to get to the computer. It's just so much easier. Sometimes even worth the effort of ironing a shirt and finding a tidy pair of tights.

Despite the march of feminism and the struggle for equality, most women, working or not, still - despite their best efforts - feel responsible for hearth and home, even when the view is partially obscured by a computer and a deadline. So if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to get the Brasso and sort out that fender.

WELL what a wizard wheeze. A new BBC TV show is all about playing practical jokes on the public. As if Big Brother and The Weakest Link weren't already enough victim television for sadists to be going on with, Rumbled is like Candid Camera only more so.

In one stunt for the new programme, a Mrs Dumbarton of Watford said she was willing to help homeless African children and gave a pound to the cause, thinking that was the end of it. Instead, a packing case was delivered to her doorstep. When she opened it, out popped a "homeless" African boy. Well ha, ha, bloody ha.

The woman involved called the police who made the crew stop filming. Good. I hope she refuses to be bullied into giving her consent so the BBC will be unable to use the footage and will have wasted their time and money.

The "joke" itself was in very dubious taste, but the world is divided into those who think practical jokes are the highest form of wit. And the rest of us who, like me, live in mortal dread of office pranksters and would happily spend April Fool's Day never emerging from the duvet. To us, Mrs Dumbarton is a true heroine.

And if the BBC end up having to scrap their silly programme, well, let's hope they see the funny side of it.

FORGET the North South divide, or even the gap between rich and poor, increasingly the biggest gap that divides people is that between town and country.

If you don't believe me, just look at the furore that greeted the Queen when she wrung the neck of a pheasant, - a compassionate and sensible act that had some of the national commentators foaming at the mouth so much, it would have been a kindness to put them down too..

Despite the vegetarian revolution, most people in this country are still meat eaters, yet many seem to have a fit of the vapours if you mention that their Sunday dinner was once a living creature.

That's not care or compassion. That's just plain hypocrisy.

Wake up and smell the bacon - and remember where it comes from.

LIFE begins at 50, according to new research, which says the over-50s are having a whale of a time, taking early retirement and foreign holidays.

Except for those of us who had our children late and are coughing up the average £7,000 or so a year it takes to have a student in the family.

"Never mind," said Senior Son consolingly, as I wrote yet another cheque, "It means I'll have a better job and can keep you in gin in your impoverished old age." That might be here sooner than he thinks...

SO there I was working and shopping in Newcastle. It was crowded and raining. There were too many queues and people blowing smoke in my face. I'd made one trip back to the car and was setting off again to the shops, when I came to the Laing Gallery. So I forgot about the shopping and went in there instead. Brilliant.

As well as their usual displays, (and a shop and a cafe) they have three special exhibitions on at the moment - the Lindisfarne Gospels, pictured above, the Bruce Oldfield collection (all those tall, thin, glamorous dresses) , and religious drawings loaned by the Queen.

They were three different worlds away from the madness outside. They soothed the soul and lifted the spirit. What's more, entrance is FREE so you can pop in and out whenever you like.

In the pre-Christmas panic, half an hour there could just save your sanity.