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It is the recurrence of this undesirable condition; becoming raw again. Two years ago this week we returned from Costa Rica only to enter a two-week lockdown a few days later.  It was widely accepted that if we all stayed home, the spread of the virus would be nipped in the bud … regardless of evidence to the contrary from Wuhan China.

Aside from all the questions about the virus itself, I remember wondering whether our economy could sustain a two-week shutdown.  It rang like a death knell.   When the two weeks ended, with little impact, I then wondered how long it would take to get through to the end, when the virus would be put back into its box.  Over the following weeks and months that end date moved like a mirage, seemingly tantalizing close, teasing us, but even as we edged towards it, it was never closer, always on the horizon. At first, I thought it might be one month, then 6 months, then a year. It’s now two years, four waves and in reality, I have no end date in mind. It is now a matter of living with it.  


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