Ours was dire. Saucepans being banged fit to beat New Year's Eve in Ireland, and a factory at the edge of a neighbouring village setting off what sounded like an air-raid siren. Our place is set back and at the top of a hill, so no one would have likely noticed if we were standing on the steps clapping like performing seals but even so we had no intention of capitulating.
There were some neighbours over the road playing Vera Lynn at full blast for the VE commemoration. In the front garden rather than the back, of course, so as many people as possible could see.
The school WhatsApp group, which I muted, had some parents - one in particular backed up by just a couple of others - trying to police who met who for walking out of doors. They actually went so far as to report this to the school, who sent out a letter to all parents telling them off like naughty children.
I broke The Rules on one occasion when my alcoholic, traumatised brother bottomed out to the extent I feared we'd lose him. Lockdown was horrific for addicts and this happened a lot, with their support meetings no longer taking place. I took him to a rehab facility some 70 miles away. I don't care that it was breaking The Rules and would do the same again in a heartbeat. No loving sister would abandon a sibling who was in such a state; he needed me.
I stayed off the COVID boards for the duration, barring about 2-3 occasions when they came up as trending topics. Attitudes on there were sickening, and in some cases gave the distinct impression that people were so happy telling others what to do they didn't want it to end, and likely hadn't felt this important since their prefect days.
This pandemic really did bring out the very worst of what's now the reverse of community spirit. Informing on your neighbours has never been a good look and history isn't apt to judge that kind of behaviour kindly.