Have I got this right?

I'm still trying to get my head around the latest batch of coronavirus restrictions. As far as I could tell from yesterday's six o' clock news, as of tomorrow the north-east of England will be subject to tier 2 regulations. This means we will not be permitted to meet friends from other households ondoors - as is already the case. But we will be permitted to meet in each other's gardens, which is currently not allowed. Can this be right?

Yes, according to the Mcite>Guardian, in some areas the new rules will be more relaxed than previously.

Unless they aren't, as there is also scope for local regulations. Ah. That kind of simplification. As Sellar and Yeatman's indisoensable history book explains, it's all in Magna Charter: "That everything should be of the same weight and measure throughout the Realm - (except the Common People)."

Whether or not the council decides not to implement this restriction (and indeed, what "the council" means when the entire north-east region is treated as a single unit), I won't be rushing to sit in my friends' gardens any time soon. Not just because it is a rainy October in rhe north of England (though that is a consideration) but because this is a university area, where rates of infection are many times above the local level (and durham_rambler's analysis of the local figures suggests that Durham's rates are even higher than those quoted in that article.

Will our student neighbours be equally cautious, or will they go back to mingling households in their back gardens? Who knows? To be fair, they have been comparatively quiet this term. But when my diary reminds me that Thursday is Farmers' Market day - well, with regret, I'm more than ready for an excursion but I don't think I'll be going into the city.

Variations on a screen

Most of the entertainment that enters the house at present, and pretty much all the interaction with other people, passes through a screen. Different platforms, on different screens: because we can (more or less).

Last Thursday we accepted the invitation of a client, a small press, to attend the launch via Zoom of their latest book, a narrative poem. It's always possible that I'll be blown away by the writing at one of these events, but the odds are against it: I'm hard to please. But I was glad of the opportunity to make contact with a client, and I admit that I was curious to find out how this particular publisher, a notorious luddite, would handle a Zoom meeting. It was fine: obviously, he had a volunteer to handle the technical end of it, and less obviously he carried off his own part in it with aplomb. It was good to see some friendly faces, even at postage stamp size and without the chance to say 'hello' (and I still don't know whether some of the oddities of that display resulted from choices I had made, settings chosen by the host, or a combination of the two). The poetry didn't outstay its welcome, and I was glad I had tuned in.

On Friday, the BBC marked what would have been John Lennon's 80th birthday by showing A Hard Day's Night. We've watched it before, and it was a pleasure to watch it again. The novelty on this occasion was that durham_rambler had a supplementary screen, the smartphone from which he is never entirely disconnected, alongside the television, and was able to answer all those wait, don't I know that face? moments. Victor Spinetti's assistant? Yes, that's Robin Ray (oh, of course!). And that tall man at the disco looks familiar? Jeremy Lloyd (uncredited, but thank you, IMDB). The music grows more wonderful with the passage of time: what was just pop music - good pop music, but just pop music - now seems to me perfect pop music (still just pop music, but perfection is perfection). Even the humour survives better than you might expect (will the BBC ever show Help! with its Eastern religion of human sacrifice?).

On Saturday we attended our first event in the Durham Book Festival's online programme: Richard Osman talking about his crime novel, The Thursday Murder Club. This was relayed over Crowdcast, which is a new system for us: durham_rambler rigged it up to play through our television (with mixed success; it was fine until it cut out, and he wasn't able to repeat that success with a later event). It was recorded - no surprise, as I knew another guest had recorded her session - but he had travelled up to Durham, and was interviewed (by a professor from, I think, Northumbria) in what I think I recognised as the Town Hall. It was evidently filmed a little while ago, and although they had actually asked fans to submit questions (the only event I've watched to do so), they hadn't asked people who had registered for the event (not actually sulking, as I wouldn't have had a question, not ahead of the event). It didn't feel like a live event, but it was agreeable television. I haven't rushed to buy the book, but if a copy turned up - if I ever go to the market bookshop again - I'd be interested to read it.

It goes on. On Sunday we were back at the Hove Pavillion (that is, watching Robb Johnson live through Facebook) for a concert of covers. Yesterday's two Book Festival events were long-distance interviews, two - oh, well, as it happens two men, side by side on the screen. Comics artist Adrian Tomine was interviewed by his editor at Faber: I hadn't persuaded durham_rambler to join me for this one, and although I enjoyed it, I couldn't have told him he'd missed anything. Ian Rankin interviewed by fellow crime-writer A A Dhand (which the television declined to pick up, and we watched together on a bonus computer monitor) was much more fun, a natural feeling but serious interview which - well, if you want to know you can watch it yourself. It still feels more like watching television than like attending a festival event, but there isn't enough of this kind oof thing on television,so why not?