Variety is the spice of life…


 ..…except when it isn’t. 

 

We all like a bit of variety from time to time, whether it’s a tea-time treat, an unexpected outing or a change of scenery. That’s why phrases such as “ringing the changes” and “a change is as good as a rest” trip so easily off the tongue.

 

Of course, variety is no longer feasible in our current monotonous existence when it’s all a question of bed, wake, work, walk, eat, TV, then bed again.

 

But I’ll tell you when variety ISN’T the spice of life – when it becomes a “variant”.

 

That’s the word on everybody’s lips at the moment and it’s striking dread into all our hearts. Turns out that the good old COVID-19 we’d come to know and hate has now morphed into thousands of new variants and we’re struggling to keep up. Ex-president Trump referred to COVID-19 as Kung Flu (racist and preposterous, albeit somewhat cleverer than most of his other epithets. I suspect he had help). But if Trump were still in office he would probably now be referring to the SA Strain, the Brazilian Bug and the Kent Katastrophe. 

 

How much of a threat these variants pose is one of those great unknowns. So we’ll all have to keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best. 

 

In the meantime, the muttered references to “variants” will continue, just as the word “tiers” used to be on everyone’s lips a few short months ago. Remember those? “What tier are you in? We’re in Tier Two”. Am I allowed to go for a walk with someone in Tier Three?” “Hang on – we’re now in Tier Four – can I go to the shops in Tier One?” We grappled with these conundrums for, ooh, it must have been a good three weeks before the whole tier system was dismantled and we were back in lockdown.

 

But the COVID term I detest the most is the all-pervading: “bubble”. It’s like an adult version of “fanites” and is constantly being used to end any squabbles concerning what we are and aren’t allowed to do. “I’m seeing my daughter at the weekend”. “What, for a walk?” “No, she’s coming over”. “Will you be outside?”. “No – she’s sort of in our ‘bubble’.” 

 

I know of someone who had her husband (an NHS worker) and three grown-up daughters home for Christmas. Though technically one household “bubble”, each of them had had countless opportunities of picking up the virus from friends and colleagues in their daily lives and then bringing it back home as a little extra Xmas “gift”. And my friend then invited her in-laws over for Christmas because they were part of the family’s “support bubble”. Let’s hope the virus understands our complex bubble system better than we do.

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