Other than being unable to get Myles’ hair cut on Sunday, and subsequently getting a humph that required a reminder that hairdressers aren’t generally open during the dead of night, and they’re even less likely to be open when it is suddenly illegal, I can’t say this household has noticed much difference with the start of this lockdown with its fancy new name.

Tier 4.

If I wasn’t in it, I’d be jealous.

I have a friend in Tier 3 right now, as I write, dying of envy.

Those in Tier 2 can only dream…

And what’s nicest about all this is that BoJo gave us 8 hours notice.

Good egg, him. Proper got things under control.