DON`T PANIC - OH, OK THEN...
First things first. Cornwall was, as ever, wonderful. Glorious weather, inspiring coast path walks and a good journey home. But each time I go there I feel a sense of escape from an increasingly mad world, so maybe it`s no wonder that I ask myself what it is that I have come home to.
Ukraine, Iraq, Syria, Ebola, migrants amassing in Calais in the misguided belief that England is the land of milk and honey, the EU threatening life as we know it by banning powerful irons, kettles, vacuum cleaners and anything else remotely `powerful` ......and the spectacle of the referendum for Scottish Independence looming on the horizon. And it`s this last item that seems to be the one that is causing panic among the Westminster elite, following the publication of a YouGov poll that gives a slight lead to the `Yes` campaign for independence.
It`s panic alright. You know it when you see and hear it and the Westminster parties are upping their efforts to persuade the Scots to vote to stay as part of the UK. And among the latest set of tactics is the promise of yet more power being devolved to the Scottish Parliament if the good folk of Scotland vote `No.` (I thought devo-max was off the agenda and anyway why can`t we in England have the same degree of devolved power as the Scots?)
But what is truly frightening is the promise of panic visits to Scotland in the last days before the 18th September vote by Dave Cameron, Ed Milliband and even the oafish Lord Prescott, of whom I hoped we had heard the last. Seems to me that this prospect, together with the endless threats, scaremongering, bullying and doubtful promises, is the one most likely to guarantee a majority of Scots voting to leave the UK.
And what strikes me as increasingly astonishing is that some 500,000 EU nationals who are resident in Scotland are entitled to vote, whereas we in the rest of the UK are not allowed to, even though it could mean the break up of the United Kingdom. A mad world in a panic and I`m just sorry I have to wait another three weeks before I can escape all the madness and head down the A303 again.