Tiers of a clown

Apparently, we're all going to be in tiers. Some of us of course are already in tears every bloody day...

Boris, Sunak and Whitty - the Three Stooges - put on their best grave faces and gave a press conference on Monday, giving chapter and verse about how they're going to continue fouling up our lives for the foreseeable. As of today there are three tiers of restrictions... I can't bear to read the details, for all I know it may depend whether there's a full moon or a northerly breeze.

My money is still on another full lockdown - I think Boris is daft enough to do it and there are plenty of people daft enough to support it.

Honestly, if you read any of this nonsense in a work of fiction, you'd bin the book for being too far-fetched and completely unbelievable. But, sadly, this is our life now.

Trying to understand why they're doing this is impossible... Like trying to put your elbow in your ear or reason with a two-year-old - it can't be done.

It must be devastating for people still trying to run a business in the areas with the strictest restrictions. This is all so unnecessary - they'll be tearing their hair.

Donald Trump seems to have recovered well from his brush with, as he calls it, the "Chinese Virus". Given that he's 74 and overweight, that's quite a turnaround. Well done, that man!

There's a couple of walking groups round here - I saw a group of about a dozen ladies "of a certain age" go past last week. They weren't socially-distanced and not one of them was wearing a mask - they were just walking, chatting and having a nice time. I nearly rushed out and shook them all by the hand! It felt weird to see something so unremarkable that actually felt so strange.

If you're as brassed off as I am, you might like this recipe from Nigella's site for Emergency Brownies - it struck me that, the way things are going, it'll be needed sooner rather than later.