Fed up with the continued debate as to whether you voted to Brexit or Remain (and that debate will never end, at least not in my lifetime), not one but two issues have divided us again.

Love it or hate it? Yes, we’re talking about Marmite.

As Tesco and Unilever wrestled over the price of the much-loved brand along with the likes of PG Tips tea and Pot Noodle, many of us were left wondering how the words “Marmite” and “shortage” could be uttered in the same sentence.

Tea, I buy all the time. I drink gallons of the stuff. Pot Noodles I haven’t bought since I was a teenager, but I appreciate they are still the staple diet of students and therefore in high demand.

But Marmite?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a firm lover. I’ve occasionally wavered from the original path to try flavours such as added Guinness, I even toyed with the one that came with Champagne.

There was also a time – after a holiday in Australia – when I switched to Vegemite but it wasn’t long before I was back with the Big M.

I regularly have it on toast, and have been known to add it to a cheese sandwich but not even I could get my head around the fact we were facing a shortage.

It takes me several months to get through a jar (is there a Use By date?) and given that so many people can’t stand the stuff, how on earth was Tesco going to run out?

What are people doing with it? Apparently spreading it on things like chicken, popcorn and even in a cake. Now that I’ve got to try.

Of course it isn’t the only “love it or hate it” issue that has unexpectedly found its way into our lives in the past week.

A few people with nothing better to do have been dressing up as scary clowns and terrorising people in the streets. A friend of mine who lives in Walderslade saw two on different nights, and one wasn’t being particularly pleasant with his hand gestures.

Turns out, not everyone likes clowns, not even the happy ones. Me, they make me laugh, even the scary ones.

Cue a debate in our office over whether clowns are good or bad (how can they be anything but good? Red noses, apart from ones that come with a cold, are there to make you smile).

The row between Unilever and Tesco may be over, but experts have predicted that food prices are likely to rise next year anyway.

So I’ve stocked up on a super-sized jar of my favourite black stuff. That’s me sorted til 2020.

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Autumnal pursuits have arrived – bonfire building, running through piles of leaves and the ancient art of conkers.

Turning its back on Health and Safety gone mad, our local pub runs a conker competition which can lead to bragging rights for the winning child – but usually for the parents of that child – for the next 12 months.

I don’t particularly care who wins – it’s just lovely to see children out enjoying the fresh air.

The other day, we walked past our local play area where a group of girls were climbing a tree and shaking the branches for all they were worth to get the conkers.

When we walked back past an hour later, they’d managed to fill a bin bag with hundreds of pieces of their treasure.

Better still, not only were they picking out the best ones for conker contests, but had discovered if you put your foot in the bag, it gave you an excellent massage. Now that’s ingenuity.