THOSE of you who keep an ear to the ground may run the risk of infection, or even of being run over by a train, car or fat person. But you will also have noticed there’s been a lot of comment recently about the heyday of DIY stores being over.

The story goes that decent ratepayers are turning their backs on botch-it-yourself and employing cheap tradesmen from Eastern Europe instead.

Apart from that, folk are fed up trying to emulate their practical dads and have come to the conclusion that, by the time you buy all the materials – and buy them again after you break the tools and botch the job first time round – and for all the weeks that your house is turned upside down, DIY just isn’t worth the heartbreak, chaos and damaged self-esteem.

Sure, there can be a certain satisfaction when you finish the job, a brief moment to enjoy before your shelf falls on your head.

DIY stores are also specially designed so that you cannot find anything, and it’s not unusual for people to go missing for three days after setting out to find a fastener with a non-tapering shank.

Surely, in this day and age, they could install computers that would tell perusing punters exactly where their desired item was located. But computers cost money, and the British capitalist is a fearful hoarder who doesn’t like to lay out owt for nowt.

The last time I was in B&Q, a store I’ve avoided since its scaremongering in the referendum, I asked for something relatively simple and was advised: “Have you tried Screwfix?” At first, I thought this odd, directing customers to a competitor. Then I discovered both stores were owned by the same company, Kingfisher. It’s called the competitive market. You wouldn’t understand.

So, while Kingfisher is closing 60 B&Q outlets, it has also announced that it is planning to open 200 more Screwfix stores, which are aimed more at tradesmen. Veronique Laury, the new chief executive of Kingfisher, explained: “Screwfix is a very good format for convenience because time is money for tradesmen. So we think we can open 200 without cannibalising any B&Qs.”

Ms Laury wasn’t suffering indigestion either from the reported downturn in DIY among the lieges: “Across Europe, 58 per cent of homeowners have done home improvements or DIY, so I’m not concerned that our market is shrinking at all. The average salary in the UK is £27,000 and most people can’t afford to hire tradesmen.”

Well, we can’t afford British tradesmen certainly, famed as they are for scratching their chins before quoting some fantastical sum that they seem to think you might actually have in a bank account or crime syndicate. You often see tradesmen’s vans outside posh houses. That’s where they live.

Some commentators have adduced the influx of cheaper Eastern European tradesmen as accounting for our drop in DIY and certainly, like many leading citizens, I have had Polish blokes in to fix the unfixable. Fine bunch of lads they were, too.

But I wonder why all Eastern Europeans are right good at practical matters. Maybe they had to make do and mend under Communism. Maybe they get Practical Life at school, instead of Latin and Algebra like us. Five years I studied Algebra and still can’t speak a word of it. I don’t even know where Algebrania is.

Whether our Eastern European friends will even know where Screwfix is remains to be seen. They probably make their own tools. But what a boon they’ve been to hapless householders here at home in Great (but not at DIY) Britainshire.

Still, it’s humiliating for a man to have to get a man in. The thing that intrigues me is how tradesmen never lose anything. It’s the defining experience of my DIY. I put tools down and they just disappear. Indeed, half my time on DIY projects is spent shouting: “I mean, how is it possible? I’m stood standing here and the thing is nowhere in the vicinity. It’s just disappeared!”

Presumably, tradesmen, Eastern European or otherwise, are taught to put their tools carefully in special pockets concealed about their persons, as opposed to leaving them in the fridge when you go to get a can of lager to calm your nerves before operating a power-drill.

Nowadays, I wouldn’t engage in carpentry any more than I’d try do-it-yourself dentistry. It seems to me that both pursuits leave you feeling distinctly down in the mouth.