Democracy

What a strange day. 

Well, it has been coming for a while, so best to just get it over with. It will be Auld Betty next. Maybe I should emigrate. 

I had expected the main event for the day to be a few hours of campaign leafleting in the afternoon. Well, by the time I knew Plan A was in the bin, it was a bit late to come up with a Plan B. 

The postman paid me a short visit in the afternoon, whistling God Save the Queen for all he was worth as he sauntered up my drive. Orders, I suppose. He brought something unwelcome. 

Something similar in red had arrived a couple of days ago. The big question is whether to open it before it goes in the shredder. 

A few years ago I had a discussion with the cashier at one of the newsagents at the airport as I was paying for my bottle of water. He told me if I bought The Telegraph I would get the water for free, and it would be cheaper than buying the water on its own*. 

I offered to take the deal provided he promised to put the newspaper in the bin. He - a New Scot, probably from Spain originally going by his name badge and accent - told me I should read it just to find out what the opposition is up to. 

Good advice.   


* Remember that next time you see its circulation figures; literally, they pay people to take it.