THIS week the search for children’s pants in Cirencester has forced me to reassess my relationship with Woolies and I find that it is as the song says "you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone."

Children’s underwear is now quite elusive in this town and the supermarket, yet again, is the winner.

One month since the closure of this iconic shop and I realise how often I relied on it. It wasn’t so much about shopping (although it was the shop of choice for pants, socks, sweets and vegetable seeds) but more about keeping dry and warm.

This was the place where I would mooch if the rain came, reading a few magazines.

It was a bit like a library but you didn’t have to keep quiet and, better still, they sold chocolate and sweets.

It was the shop I headed for when I had a few minutes to kill before picking up the children from school.

If I’m honest I probably didn’t spend too much real money there (and that was probably part of the problem for Woolies), but I gave the shop a lot of my free time.

Husband has lately become very interested in what I do with my free time.

Days off work are usually spent putting the house back in some sort of order in time for the children’s return from school or on the allotment.

However occasionally something a bit different crops up and you just have to embrace the moment.

And unless it is an illegal activity I see no reason to hide the truth from my nearest and dearest.

So when asked what I had spent the morning doing, I thought it perfectly reasonable to reply: "standing in my friend’s living room playing ‘Eye of the Tiger’ on a pretend guitar while her three-year-old looked on."

Okay, in print I can see it does look bad and perhaps the game ‘Guitar Hero’ should be the preserve of the teenagers.

Husband is now suspicious every time I leave the house, but no one tells you that "You rock!" when you put the washing out.