Well Christmas was completely ruined for my family last year via an almost-last-minute Johnson edict, thanks, after earlier promises that that wasn't going to happen. My son and daughter-in-law, along with our one and only grandchild, live 250 miles away and we see them, at most, about three times a year. We had to spend a fortune posting him his presents and we had a mountain of food that we didn't need. Not to speak of the bitter disappointment of it all. Sure, we had a Dec 25, and, never fear, the sun will rise tomorrow. But what we didn't have was Christmas.

It would be constructive if we could all hang on to (what are to me, anyway) the clear distinctions between covid-19 deniers, mask rebels, conspiracy theorists (I'm none of those) and those of us who argue the case for the ditching of restrictions on our normal lives imposed by a government who don't give a flying shite about our health and safety but who are far more concerned about the political damage it will do to them should the NHS which they have so criminally depleted be overwhelmed. Know thine enemy. It's in the shape of a fat, blond buffoon and his two stooges, Whitty The Miserable who always looks as if he'd far rather be somewhere else, and Vallance, who is the biggest idiot in town.