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What a load of rubbish

Many of us are preparing for the opening of schools and if I had £1 for every time someone commented on how long kids have been at home now, I’d be able to afford to bespangle the practice in solar panels. Ah, what a truly glorious day that would be. Anyway, the point is, lockdown has been lonnnng. To keep ourselves and our delightful offspring entertained has been an Everest-sized task, which has led interestingly to the waxing and waning of various trends such as an obsession with making sourdough, keeping chickens, Zoom pub quizzes, veg boxes, over-ripe banana bread, front-yard socialising, and allotment oneupmanship. Oh and large-scale toilet roll deliveries - my favourite! Who Gives a Crap totally sold out during lockdown when the media was full of checkout squabbles over the last plastic-sheathed multi-pack in the store. Ah yes, there’s really nothing like the feel of utter smugness when welcoming in through the front door (in front of the entire street) a large box of 48 guilt-free zero-calorie rolls (well, aren't they *shrugs*?). They have kept the household’s cheeks in check, as well as providing endless wrapping paper, a makeshift theatre and pirate ship. And the kids also enjoyed the boxes, ha!

Speaking of boxes, many people seem to have been bulk-ordering disposable masks. No no no! Please leave these for healthcare providers. And also, see my previous post on wearing a reusable mask. Posters like this one above always make me chuckle but the likelihood of them being seen by the feckless rapscallions at whom they are aimed, is small. These slippery customers were responsible for 12 hideous papery masks on the highways and byways of York this afternoon. Fortunately my loosely-contained ire was kettled by a dairy-free mango sorbet-gelato from the fantastic Ice Cream Rescue in Museum Gardens. Give these guys a non-hereditary peerage! 1) they had a gluten-free option for our coeliac friends, 2) they have dairy-free options which are great for the planet, 3) their outlet is a cute suped-up old ambulance (um, counts as recycling - have another planet point) with a menu entitled ‘Doctor’s orders’, and 4) ice-cream clearly promotes endorphins. Yes friends, this is evidenced by my floating the rest of the way home singing unashamedly COVIDed versions of R&B classics I'm in-a-Visor (sorry Destiny's Child), TLC's No Scrubs, and the in a tribute to my lovely choir, Maskmaker, Maskmaker from 'Fiddler on the Roof', and having the courage to round on a couple of middle-aged pavement cyclists all to the acute embarrassment of my junior editor.

Well, pay them a visit as they have the ice-cream trade totally licked! But don't forget to continue to physically distance yourself from others queuing, wash your hands thoroughly before and after eating, and wipe down your phone - do it now! And please don’t bring your ice cream and stand over me in my consultation room. I don’t like being given the cold shoulder...

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