Blame Timehop again, but this one popped up in my feed this morning. I wrote this exactly a year ago today, the day before the bumbling oaf who runs our country decided it would be better to put us into the first of what has since become three lockdowns. It made a change from seeing him bouncing around hospital wards, shaking as many hands as possible, and doing his best to avoid hearing what his scientific advisors were telling him. That has become his regular pattern since then: too little, too late, with a whole raft of extremely lucrative contracts being given to companies incapable of fulfilling them. But they were run by his chums, so what could possibly go wrong?
Reading this again today, I thought it worth resharing for those who have joined me since then, and for anyone else who might like a reminder of how things were in the early Covid days.
Stay safe and well. I would share a hope that the end is in sight, but who can say? Take care.
I posted this to my Facebook friends a couple of days ago:
I live alone and don’t have any signs of illness, but I could understand her precautions: as she said, the outfit was as much to protect me from possible infection as it was for her. But it was another gentle reminder of how our lives are being disrupted by an unseen enemy. In normal course, I would have been phoned by my GP practice to tell me that there was a blood test request form for me to pick up. I would then take that to the local hospital and join what always feels like half the population of our small town in the queue to be leeched. However, I had a text message on Tuesday from the practice telling me that they would only be doing telephone contacts for now, and the hospital closed all of its…
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