London has voted

I like to exercise my democratic right – I’m not saying that doesn’t occasionally blow up in my face though.

I’ve always felt conscious, prickly even about the late stage in history that provided the female vote in this country, less than 100 years of female emancipation in the UK. Just one good long lifetime ago, I’d have been denied that right. Those brave women did me a huge service and I will never forget it nor will I ever fail to exercise the right they gifted me. Equality may be a way off yet but at least I don’t have to throw myself in front of horse – someone did that for me and I am deeply grateful.

The results of the London, UK and Euro elections have made me happy on one hand; devastated on another… such is democracy

Eons ago when I lived at home with my parents, Karl-Heinz (my bro’) offered to escort me, aged 18 to cast my first ballot. I thought it was very friendly of him considering I felt quite well able to mark the correct spot on the ballot paper. Karl-Heinz is a thirsty boy with a sense of occasion, meaning that he had an ulterior motive and so began a tradition that weathered many years whereby we voted together and then stopped off for a pint on the way home. This tradition reached a crescendo when Karl-Heinz moved in with me, then Rocket did, then KH moved out and Rocket and I moved in with him and so on….I imagine The Minx, KH’s wife, is hoping that this is the end of our ‘musical homes’ escapade but… you never can tell Sis.

These days we live in different electoral districts so a social voting session is not an option. I took the munchkin (our rescue dog) with me for company, Rocket came along but under sufferance so it wasn’t the same. Next time I’m going to start a new tradition to offer a more of a lofty sense of occasion to polling day, next time there WILL be cocktails and canapés. This, I hope, will have two effects; 1) giving polling day a more celebratory feel and 2) dulling the thundering disappointment I feel about racism and racists in the UK and my beloved France, albeit the cocktails will provide a temporary respite from this demon cloaked in a garb of plausible respectability.

Recipe? Here you go, my martini of choice for the next polling day:

A Black and White

3 parts stoli vanilla vodka to 1 part creme de cacao. Pour into a a cocktail shaker half filled with cracked ice, shake and strain into a chilled martini glass, garnish with a twist of liquorice.

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