The lockdown shambles and the state of my feet

MY feet could do with a bit of TLC.

I don’t buy cosmetics or indulge in ‘pampering’ spa days, but in normal times, every six weeks I like to get my hair cut and have a pedicure (an arthritic knee makes it a bit painful to twiddle with my own toes too much).

That’s it. Both extremities dealt with, I feel reasonably smart, and the bit in the middle won’t really matter. Or that’s what I tell myself!

Except that due to what I can only call the government’s continued cackhanded management off the Covid crisis, a pedicure is not allowed. A haircut, on the other hand, now is.

Can anyone tell me how it’s safer to have a hairdresser in a visor hovering around my face at a distance of six inches than to lie outstretched while a beautician in mask and gloves tends my toenails from a distance of more than 5ft?

Apparently, meanwhile, it’s perfectly acceptable to give the gasping hordes permission to head for the beach where they can ‘cool off’ and hobnob at a social distance no longer than a tube of suncream.

And oh! Surprise, surprise! There are no toilets, no cafes, the rubbish bins are overflowing … and even more surprise, I’m sure, when a second wave of infection sweeps the nation in a few weeks’ time.

I have to say, my anger is not helped by the behaviour of an ignorant local minority.

Walking in Harnham cricket field over the past fortnight I’ve twice been dragged by the curious dog towards piles of human faeces ‘covered up’ by a single sheet of toilet roll. Because, of course, the pub loos are shut and kids are being ‘caught short’ when their parents take them to play in the river.

Dog owners have to ‘bag it and bin it’. Why can’t other people? Or even better, pick up their offspring’s excrement in one of their empty picnic carrier bags, take it home and flush it?

There’s no excuse for this selfish, antisocial behaviour.

But there’s even less excuse for the government making such a hash of the precautions we need to ‘squash the sombrero’ of disease.

All the people (like beauticians) who are prevented from earning a living must be feeling sick as a case of sunstroke when they watch this debacle unfold with the compliance of an elite, very few of whom have ever done a self-employed day’s work.