Alea iacta est ...

I was on holiday at the last General Election - a holiday booked the day before the date of the election was announced, I remember. So I'm now registered as a postal voter, and in a way it's less nerve-racking, less a matter of ensuring that I'm in the right place and not caught up in any emergency when I need to be at a polling station on voting day. I have to admit I miss the buzz of physically taking myself up the road to vote, of seeing other people there, of the posters and colours round the station - although equally I have to admit that on a wet night in Dunoon there's often very little to see.

Be that as it may, I voted today in the Referendum. No-one watched me as I put the envelope containing another sealed envelope and my details slip into the post box in the Coop; no-one watched me take a photo of the moment. But it felt exciting, exhilarating. It felt like a more important vote than any I'd taken part in. And it was a relief finally to have cast the vote I've intended to for months - a vote to get rid of the nuclear weapons I've campaigned against for the past 30 years. There are other considerations influencing my choice, but Trident and its replacement take top billing.

The die is cast!