Sarah Standing

I am on holiday in the Hamptons. Conrad Black's guilty verdict merited two paragraphs in the newspaper. I feel totally starved for news. I found a turtle on the lawn on my second day here. My niece and nephew wanted to keep it as a pet. I took them to the pet shop in an effort to get the shopkeeper to reinforce my mantra that it is cruel to keep pets when you are a mere "visiting tourist". I grew up thinking pets were forever, not just for Christmas or summer. But I forgot this was America. "Ma'am many of our holiday makers take temporary custody of animals for the duration of the holiday season and then just give them back when the holiday's are over," explained the pet shop manager with a big "have-a-good-day" grin. Easy come - easy go.

I take back most of my biting comments on Wholefoods. It is now up and running and irresistible. Last night I went and was seduced into spending a small fortune. At 6pm it was as packed as Primark. It is entirely possible to do one's entire "weekly shop" here providing you bring a pack of sherpas to help carry your groceries and own a black Amex. No parking, no delivery service (until September and then mystifyingly only in W8) and overly perky American check-out assistants who are blessed with a near-religious sense of commitment to the company. The choice of goods on offer is truly awesome.

I understand Labour wants to introduce another Bank Holiday: British Day. Having spent the last decade systematically destroying all that was distinctively British and replacing treasured traditions with new-fangled politically-correct, all-embracing, multi-cultural and downright petty rituals under the guise of taking this country forward into the 21st century we are now left with a legacy of a fractured society. We used to celebrate being British just because we were proud of our heritage. We didn't require a designated day to wave flags and put up banners. We were just proud of the many institutions that made Britain great: our regiments, our naval capabilities, our parliament, our legal system, our fox-hunting, our ability to make choices ourselves, our freedom.

I've just returned from the much-anticipated opening of the Wholefoods emporium on Kensington High Street feeling strangely deflated and disappointed. Having shopped extensively at Wholefoods in America,  (developing an almost unhealthy obsession with the food and exciting ethos contained within the vast stores) , I fully expected to become an immediate convert. Shopping at Wholefoods USA is like attending a mass orgy. It's culinary porn: addictive, exciting and leaves one with an insatiable appetite for more. Last nights inaugural bash was about as inspiring as attending a party to celebrate the opening of an ( eco-friendly, bio-degradable, ethically-sourced) envelope.

Depressing thought of the day. A recent survey claims we turn into technical incompetents by the time we're 42, becoming increasingly reliant on our children for understanding and guidance in operating gizmos and gadgets. Sadly this is true in our household. Whenever the kids go away, the parental mice can no longer play with anything. Through habit we have become totally co-dependant on them. They are our enablers. Even simple cut-and-pasting is a hit-and-miss affair often resulting in frantic phone calls dragging one or other of the kids back to help. The wrong television programmes get recorded, the oven timer beeps when it shouldn't, every photograph taken is riddled with red-eye and I've yet to succeed in "loading up" much other than the dishwasher without copious assistance.

There can be no nightmare greater than the one the McCanns are currently living through. Throughout this Bank Holiday weekend I have found myself compulsively checking the news every hour just willing there to be a happy outcome to this terrifying abduction. Maddy's continued disappearance haunts my every waking moment. The Portuguese police force has displayed a frightening and frustrating lack of urgency connected to this search operation, yet the quiet dignity and politeness shown by her parents I find truly humbling. I am driven mad listening to smug, self-righteous "know-it-alls" arguing how they would never leave a sleeping child to have supper 50 yards away. It's hypocritical and the last thing these broken, devastated parents need is the finger of blame pointed at them.

The entire Kate Moss Topshop collection has ended up on ebay. This morning I noticed there are over 5,000 items for sale. It seems London-based fashionistas just act as personal shoppers for the rest of the country who (understandably) can't be bothered to join the scrum.