The phenomenon that is Calendar Girls has brought the Women's Institute into focus once more. And it has forced me to confront something I'd not really given much thought to.

I'm the first generation of my family not to have joined the WI.

When my mum was my age she had three kids and was a fully paid-up member of the WI and even became president.

She put lots of time and energy into it all. Every Monday evening she'd disappear to her meetings, armed with bags of cloth, string, paints, rolls of paper, and that spongy dry green stuff you stick flower arrangements into.

I never quite knew what went on at those Monday meetings but she'd return after several hours, giddy and full of chat about other WI devotees and the pearls of wisdom offered by whatever speaker they'd had.

And the bag of tricks she'd taken along would have been transformed into an impressive piece of handicraft, something made out of flowers with a theme, or a tin of cakes (again, with a theme).

Sometimes the WI went on trips, to clog factories, the theatre, or for pub meals.

She and the other WI girls made daft costumes for summer fetes and Christmas shows, organised fairs and pie-and-peas nights, competed in quizzes all over the place, and composed songs and poems about the WI, awarding each other trophies for their efforts.

I never understood what it was all about - but my mum loved it, it was a huge part of her life and she made some great friends through it.

All the women in her family had been staunch WI members and it was probably expected that I too would join one day.

But I can't see a time when I ever will. And I don't know anyone else my age who will either. You can't blame us. It goes without saying that the WI is very dated.

The idea of women getting together to bake, make baby jackets and arrange trips to clog factories isn't very 21st century is it? And it doesn't matter how many of them terrify Tony Blair at conferences, or take their clothes off and get played by Helen Mirren in films - WI ladies still have a cosy, middle-class image.

I don't fit the criteria. I can't knit, (I've tried and failed, my excuse is I'm left-handed). I've never made jam - I don't even eat jam, so why would I want to make it? I don't arrange flowers, and I'm useless at handicrafts. The thought of creating a Jamaican scene on a tea tray using only fir cones and tin foil (if you've seen Calendar Girls you'll know what I mean) fills me with fear.

Baking, flower-arranging, making stuff - these things don't come into my life. And unless I suddenly get the time or inclination to bake, arrange flowers, and make stuff, I don't see that changing.

And do you know what? It's a crying shame. I'll always remember how happy those Monday night meetings made my mum, and what a great circle of friends they gave her.

And now I'm worrying that the WI's days are numbered and the next generation of middle-aged women won't have that kind of fun, supportive network.

Maybe I'll start with a couple of fir cones and a tea tray and see how it goes...

Updated: 11:46 Monday, September 29, 2003