December 12th, 2019

gertrude

At the polls

When I drew the curtains this morning and saw the pouring rain and driving wind, I rather wished I’d taken up the council’s cheery invitation to ‘Stay cosy on December 12th!’ and registered for a postal vote. I wonder if they sent these emails to everyone or only the over-60s? I didn’t do it, so I had to face the flooded lanes and the idiots driving without lights on to make my way to the polling station. It was quite busy and there was even a damp dog, dragged out because his master is a good citizen.

It’s a hard one to call round here. Down in town, I’ve seen lots of orange posters and no blue ones at all. My Conservative candidate has sent me three separate communications (straight in the recycling bag), the LibDems one letter and I also had a Conservative newsletter *for the wrong constituency*. How could they make such a stupid mistake? No one has canvassed me on the doorstep.

I shall not be staying up to see the results come in and I just hope I don’t wake in the night and forgetfully switch on the World Service, as whatever the news is, it’s bound to stop me getting back to sleep.