I expect many of you are looking forward to going shopping for something other than food this week. Sadly I won’t be joining you because people who are shielding are not supposed to go into shops at all. We are limited to having a short walk for exercise, or attending a medical appointment, but I have been pondering on what I will do once those restrictions are lifted.

My first priority will be to go back into the supermarkets. Online ordering has been essential, but nothing beats going round and being inspired by products on offer. Although we keep a list of things we need to buy online each week, we always seem to miss something and then have to wait another week before it can be replenished. Last week it was fruit juice, and before that, heaven help us, chocolate.

Apart from food and household items, we have bought very few things in the last three months. I have purchased one item of clothing, and that was because my favourite label was offering a 50% discount – and I couldn’t let that pass, could I? (I am still wait for my Lost Stock parcel). I tend to go barefoot in the house, and just slip into a battered pair of Birkenstocks that I keep by the back door to wear in the garden. I have only worn shoes four times since we went into isolation, so I certainly don’t need new shoes at the moment.

Will my broader shopping habits change? When eventually I do need to buy shoes I will have no choice but to go into town. I have slightly odd shaped feet so I always have to try shoes on and can’t order online. And I normally want to try clothes on as well, although I understand that at the moment changing rooms are shut. Also, there is no way of finding a new perfume that I like without spraying it on my skin.

The tune of Amazing Grace has been running through my head all week. We have been singing it with the Great British Home Chorus, along with We Shall Overcome, as a tribute to Black Lives Matter. At least I think that is why Gareth Malone chose the song, assuming that it is a gospel song which can trace its origins back to black churches in the Southern States. Nothing he said suggested that he knew the real story behind the lyrics.

As far as the music is concerned, he referred to “this traditional American melody”, and indeed the beautiful tune we use today is called New Britain and was already in use in churches across America before it was matched with the words in 1835. Its name implies that it may have had origins in Britain, but I can’t find any definitive roots in my exhaustive searches through Wikipedia.

Once the lyric and tune had combined to give the song we all know today, it became very popular across all Christian traditions, although it works particularly well in gospel style. But I wonder how many people who sing it today appreciate the poignancy of the text.

The shocking thing is that John Newton, who wrote the original words, was a slave trader.

I had a real adventure today – unlikely as it may seem, it was a visit to the dentist.

Back in April a crown dislodged itself, leaving me with a rather poor bite on one side of my mouth. I knew that dental treatment under lockdown was strictly limited to emergencies, so I kept the crown safe and waited. I didn’t attempt a repair myself, as some people have done.

At the time, local dentists were, I think, able to prescribe painkillers and antibiotics remotely but, for understandable reasons, were unable to work on teeth directly. Regional Urgent Dental Care hubs were set up but they could only do extractions. Drilling was considered too dangerous.

My biggest fear over the past few months has been that I would develop the kind of toothache that takes over every thought in my head. The last time it happened was about a year ago when a tooth became infected. I sat up for the whole night, moving from one painful minute to the next, just waiting for the 9am appointment. I had never been so pleased to see my dentist.

I thought it was happening again to me three weeks ago when I developed toothache in a molar on the other side of my mouth. It only hurt after eating, and then only for a few minutes, but it was pretty painful. With both sides of my mouth compromised I found it quite difficult to eat, and the steak I had bought had to be stored in the freezer. Paracetemol before each meal did the trick.

Then we heard – oh joy – that dentists would be re-opening on 8th June. I phoned my dental practice, explaining that it wasn’t an emergency but that I would appreciate an appointment at some point. By this week, somewhat to my embarrassment, the molar had calmed down, but the crown was still, of course, not in place.

Some of the newspapers today are excitedly headlining the news that grandparents in England can hug their grandchildren again this week. It’s not easy for the many grandparents who are still not allowed to do so.

The BBC carries a more nuanced version of the story. From this weekend any adult who lives alone or with children under 18 (but no other adults) can form a support bubble with another household. While continuing to live in two homes they can interact as if they live together and don’t have to observe social distancing (although they must all self-isolate if any one of them develops symptoms). This does make a lot of sense and will help to counteract loneliness suffered by many people who have lived through lockdown on their own, whatever their age.

But crucially many grandparents are excluded from these arrangements. If they live with a partner they cannot form a support bubble unless the other household has just one adult. That would work for some intergenerational families, but not all.

And from my perspective, the sad truth is that no-one who is shielding may join a support bubble.  Many grandparents, like us, are shielding.