I really do not know what to write here tonight. I could launch in to yet one more diatribe against the Tories, but you know what I’ll say, and anyone reading this will probably have already voted, so whatever I write will be moot. I’m genuinely fearful of what tomorrow might bring – come the morning, CaMoron might be in number 10, and all that I hope for will be gone; but tonight I just want to settle down, give Lyn frequent cuddles, and hope for the best.