THE phrase “all the gear, no idea” could have been made for me and my family.

We've always been like that, the Duttons — keen to jump on the bandwagon of a new trend or hobby, only to abandon it at the first sign of boredom.

Taking a quick peek into the family garage would give you all the evidence you needed to support this claim.

There you would find various mountain bikes, roller blades, body fat digital scales, walking poles, tennis racquets, an abdominizer and state-of-the-art walking boots.

We even had a family paraglider buggy type thing once. We used it on the beach a grand total of once before it got cast aside.

Down the end of the garden on the patio (which houses a long rusted-up barbecue) you would see a mini aerobic trampoline, faded and weather-beaten.

Inside the house a look in one of the cupboards would show an unused George Foreman grill, a huge bumper pack of red lentils from the time my mum decided to make her own soup (but forgot) and everyone's favourite, the Christmas smash-hit of 2005, a breadmaker.

All these things were desperately wanted — no, needed — at the time. And after the first flush of interest wore off they were cast aside to the dustbin of the back garden, aka the garage.

My mum is perhaps the worst offender of the family. It’s her golf clubs that languish in the garage and it was her metal detector that lay there unused (except for about twice) until she gave it to her nephew.

Her interests that last about five minutes are usually sporting pursuits. One such interest was cycling and she not only has a bicycle but a panier, pump, chain, water bottle and bell. It's the bits and pieces she likes best.

Another hobby was walking. And, as you’d expect, she not only has walking boots but walking poles, Arctic fleeces and top-of-the-range waterproof jackets suitable for Everest. Our spare room would make Ranulph Fiennes’ stock cupboard look shabby.

Bizarrely, she even has a sleeping bag, despite the fact she’s not slept anywhere but a bed for at least as long as I can remember.

Following in the family footsteps, I've always been one to enjoy partaking in new activities that inexplicably become boring after a few weeks.

There was the time I took up horse-riding, followed by dancing lessons and that time I decided to make my own holiday clothes, but faltered half-way through my first skirt when something good came on the telly.

Oh, and of course there was the time I became a disciple of Paul McKenna's weight loss hypnosis programme.

Still, it’s nice to have a hobby isn't it? I'm just grateful the local cult leader hasn't been round because we’d all definitely fall for that.