Small folk

Small folk maybe, but with a big voice.

I am not Scottish. I am British, English, European, take your pick - but not Scottish. However I had a vote to cast today. The last few days have been ones of soul-searching, reading anything sensible I could find, and trying to make up my mind.

In the end it was rather straightforward, once I figured out what was important through the haze of figures, lies and hypotheticals.

So, decision made, up and out to vote. There was no queueing, we were in and out in two minutes. "Is that it?" the kids asked.

Then on to Blair Drummond Safari park to ooh and ahh at huge sleepy rhinos, cute prairie dogs and acrobatic free-running marmosets. TallGirl managed to get bitten by an ostrich in the petting zoo. As she was washing the blood off, and I was gently mocking her for holding the grass out to it the way she had, she commented "yeah, you'd think I'd have learnt after last time" and reminded me that this is her second such injury.

On to the Bannockburn visitors centre to do battle. A power cut mucked things up a bit - so we started off with dressing up as soldiers in super heavy chain mail and with real swords to wield in a fabulously un-health and safety environment. Then with systems rebooted, on to battle when, despite almost every Scot except the King dying, it was judged a victory for them. Probably quite appropriate really.

Dinner at the Champney Inn, where TallGirl demolished an 18oz T-bone steak in record time. And back for telly and some post-poll closing news.

And tomorrow?