Thursday 15 November, and Election fever grips the Land. Three cheerful tellers sit behind a table in our village hall like the wise old monkeys they probably are, as the People Decide. The girls and boys in political rosettes have stayed away, I notice. Or maybe the Three Wise Ones are political, but hiding it in the interests of Police Impartiality.
The UK Police and Crime Commissioner race is on, and so’s the Kettle.
This is British democracy at its glorious best and awful worst.
Like the good bish, I’m a voter.
But for the first time ever, I’ll be deliberately spoiling my ballot today.