Cycling back home from delivering groceries to Trevor and a newsletter to George ('supporting vulnerable people', that was), I was pleased to see Sarah by the side of the road. Sarah's a regular at church but has never signed up for anything, including the Electoral Roll, so I had no contact for her and hadn't had any contact since worship in church ceased. This was an opportunity to get an email address so I could send a newsletter. I didn't have a consent form to sign: GDPR seems to be one of the things which has been somewhat elbowed aside by the Current Crisis.
I remembered that Sarah worked at one of the supermarkets. She was on her way to work, as it happened. Of course she is a 'key worker', I said. Had she been aware of that now-lauded status? 'Not until this week,' she replied, with point
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