I’ve been on a blog lockdown. Notes from Plague Island.

I’m not going to go back and see what I was going on about on 19th Dec 2020. Yeah, those were the good old days! So, I’ll start by wishing you Happy New Year. It’s not happy of course. This year will be bloody awful, for reasons I’ll probably go on and on about for the whole of 2021, unless something magical happens. And unicorns might fly, I hear you say.

In what feels like years ago, plans were being made for my Christmas travel. My last trip to the shops was on Monday 13th Dec before ten days of self isolation and a drive to see the parents for Christmas on the 24th. This was all made possible because of a badly advised break in the Covid rules, allowing Christmas travel from 23rd-27th December. A super spreader event was predicted, but our PM Bozza wanted to save Chrimbo – he saved Chrimbo. Then the roll back started. First, we were advised to have a very little Christmas, with the windows open. And then half of the country was locked down, kind of.

I could have travelled North and claimed to be in a support bubble, but that didn’t seem like a good idea. Let’s face it. Allowing Christmas travel was a terrible idea, but in Brexitland, showing that we are a Christian nation is very important to the Brexit base. And if we are having Christmas, we need to shop and flood the streets of London with shoppers. At the time, this looked bad, very bad, but hey ’tis the season to be jolly.

In the end, I panicked and bought 24 cans of Lost Lager on line from Brew Dog, and a 5 litre mini-keg from the brewery down the road, two bottles of wine, and a couple of bottles of beer to keep them company. I’d broken my self isolation, which meant I’d be having Christmas alone. My plans changed at short notice, just like many other masked up people in the crowded supermarket. But that’s fine, everything is just fine.

In the grocery shopping madness, all of the chickens had sold out and I cooked a nice piece of top side beef, leaving all of my vegetarian and green credentials behind me to satisfy my urge for a big meal on the big day.

None of the above has any relevance to the title. It kind of does, but that’s because I know. I’ll explain this later.