Coronavirus is creeping towards us. Walking back across the field I saw one of our neighbours working behind his garden wall, but we could speak from a safe distance. Two friends of his in their eighties were CV-positive, and now one has died. It is beginning to get close and personal. Yesterday we heard the first case had been recorded in Cavendish, two villages away; now there is a case in the next village at Clare.
Facebook in these situations is valuable, but can be vicious. to the point where Clare Facebook pages have split into two: The Clare Facebook Page, and The Real Our Town Clare Facebook. But Keddington is far worse: the nasty, snide comments make us glad we don't live there. Hundon in contrast is quite mild, with little more than someone asking, "does anyone have any eggs?"
We have just finished watching The English Game on Netflix, a brilliantly filmed and acted account of the historic FA cup final battle between The Old Etonians and the working man's northern club, Blackburn. This was a watershed moment in football, when for the first time a paid professional team was allowed to compete.
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