For once, I have given up something useful for Lent. Previous Lenten efforts have been either feeble (I'll give up crinkle-cut chips), chequered (What's that? Forty days? I thought you said four days' tea!) or both (when the supermarket ran out of crinkle cut chips for four days . . .).

This year, things have changed. Not only do I have more inner determination (engendered from immeasurable hours spent at the PC willing myself not to go for a little snooze), but, also, I really have the urge to make a difference to the world.

This is due to genuine altruism and also because I don't want to end up swimming to the post-office through molten larva because my generation had a proclivity for fairy lights and shrink wrapped coconuts.

So I thought, what can I give up that would help the planet? Since I don't eat meat, don't own a car and don't count destroying the rain forests among my weekend leisure pursuits, I decided to give up . . . (drum roll) Supermarkets.

What were you expecting? Breathing?

Anyhow, I should probably add a couple of confessions to this seemingly admirable sacrifice: Firstly, I work from home, which means that I can wander to the shops freely during the day to pick up a cauliflower and a bottle of almond essence (I feel compelled to point out these weren't for the same meal). Understandably, it isn't so easy for my teacher friend who was very keen on eschewing supermarkets until she found herself ravenous and food-free on a Monday at 8pm and swiftly hot-footed it to Tesco.

Secondly, not visiting Supermarkets is a bit of a relief because I've realised I never liked them very much. I don't know why. Maybe it's the way people judge you by the contents of your basket. (Come on, we all do it. I can't count the number of times I've looked at someone's five packets of Turkey Twizzlers and bottle of Jack Daniels and wondered whether I should be alerting social services.) Also, you always have to queue. What's with that? I mean, when was the last time you had to queue in your newsagent? And then, if you are a malleable sucker (i.e me) they lure you in with their 241 offers so you go out for a pint of semi-skimmed you come back with seven throw cushions and a bag of novelty donuts.

The unexpected bonus of this boycott is that I am seeing a totally different side to my local late shop - quite literally; I'd never actually been round the back of the shop and when forced to tread the outer regions in search of something edible I have found a small and eccentric range of products last seen during World War II.

So, all in all, I'm rather enjoying my supermarket-free existence. Not only is it broadening my local knowledge and supporting my region's independent shopkeepers but it is also offsetting some of my guilt for not yet having installed energy saving light bulbs and for the fact that I like to spend my days off pushing polar bears off ice-caps.

Now I must dash, it's Angel Delight, pickled onions and dollop of Swarfega for tea.