FOR the first year the allotment is providing enough strawberries to warrant taking a pot with us each time we visit.

Salad and strawberries are now off the shopping list and with new potatoes flowering it is only a matter of time before they join the list of things that we don't have to buy. It all helps, as the shopping bill seems to increase each time we visit.

Take time away from the dirt of the plot to enjoy some glamour, shopping with a friend in Cirencester. She is in the market for an outfit for a wedding and my job is offer support and make sure that the dress she chooses does the same.

I try on a few things just to keep her company and it is then that I spot them. While waiting for her to try on the final dress I slip on a pair of shoes, more for something to do than anything else.

Those who remember the thunderbolt moment with last year's gold shoes will recognise the signs. I experience the dry mouth and the racing heart. It feels a bit like a first love but is more expensive.

Describe them to husband later that evening - they're purple satin, with a peep toe and a really high heel. I can tell by his face that he is not impressed. "Purple!" he splutters. "Yuk".

Now that I've got him on side it seems a good time to break it to him about the price.

He reminds me that I am the one who returns from the supermarket each week complaining that butter and bread are going up in the time it takes to travel from one aisle to another.

"Does the credit crunch not relate to shoes?" he asks. He then helpfully provides me with a cost analysis of how much my gold shoes have cost each time I have worn them over the last year. "They have cost £16 per wear so far," he says.

He is impressed with himself. The case, he imagines is closed. Inside I am doing my own calculation. How long can my family last without bread and butter so that I can buy those shoes?