Voting.

'Drubbing' is one of those peculiarly old fashioned words that is used by BBC whenever a political party suffers heavy losses at the polls. This morning we're being told that the government has suffered a 'grim drubbing' in yesterdays local elections. The addition of the word 'grim' makes the outcome sound unusually melancholic.

The BBC remains unsure whether the war in the Gulf is on or off. The US President has called overnight clashes a 'love tap'. This is an Americanism neither of us has ever heard before.  Elsewhere the hantavirus outbreak on a small cruise ship continues to attract attention. The BBC informs us that 'this is not the start of a pandemic '. I'm not sure whether this is, or is not, reassuring. You've got to feel sorry for the guy isolating on the super remote British territory of Tristan da Cunha.

Cloudier this morning. The beach full of young couples walking to and fro deep in conversation. For some of them the realization has dawned that term is coming to and end and they'll soon be heading off to different parts of the globe for the summer. As exams end the theatricality of impending teenage separation will soon be unfolding on the streets of this small town. 

A solitary horse and rider canter past on the road that runs alongside the fourth tee of the golf course. Golfers waiting to tee off patiently wait for it to pass by.

In the village the Polling station opened at 7 am and closed at 10 pm. Allowing for half an hour on either end to set up and close down this makes for a long, long day for the two staff. We thank them for their civic duty. Sixteen year olds are allowed to vote for the first time in these elections. The farmers youngest and his mates stopped off on their way into school. The staff tell us they were 'enthusiastic' voters. This is presumably another way of saying they were noisy.

The SNP, Liberal Democrats and Greens all had posters up. We were surprised to find a number of pro-independence and pro-life parties on the ballot. Where there used to be a maximum of five options now there are eleven.

The verges turning into wild flower heaven. Butterfly numbers seem to be up this year. Possibly way up. Red Admirals and Peacocks flit around us as we head back up the path from the coast.

Angus has ordered some Bandol rose for the summer. Last years stock of Sancerre rose won't last much longer. The wine makes it through customs from France in a workable five days. It is delivered by a cheerful young courier who stacks the cases in the garage for me to unpack later.

So starts a Friday morning in a small seaside town where nothing ever happens.

What causes lightning ? :https://www.quantamagazine.org/what-causes-lightning-the-answer-keeps-getting-more-interesting-20260506/

The ultimate hotel for wine drinkers. It's in France, naturally  :https://www.sources-hotels.com/bourgogne/