Pick your arm

‘Pick your arm wisely’, said Berry, as I prepared for my Covid jab, as he’d had his earlier in the week. Not only did I plan to present my left arm, I thought I’d better ensure adequate sustenance and upgrade from my recent daytime diet of black coffee. So at lunchtime I had some ravioli at an Italian café, enjoying the novelty of going inside establishments to eat.

At the vaccination centre I thought it was going to be a load of 38-year olds in a queue but fairly diverse ages abounded. It felt good to be taking part in a national initiative and I had the same feeling of dignified solidarity that I’ve had alongside big hordes of people in other scenarios: when a sports team loses, at a quiet protest, or when everyone pours out of the building during a fire evacuation. According to the Guardian, 56.2% of people in the UK have now had at least one dose.

I cycled back to the flat in weather that we would call appalling in January. We’re on course for the wettest May ever. This year has not really got into gear yet has it, weather-wise.

Covid vaccination centre volunteers are good eggs. Three cheers to the woman in the hi-vis jacket, and the army of volunteers who have kept up this impressive nationwide effort.