Regrets and consolations .

The mayor is up bright and early . A busy day ahead . The first round of the Presidential elections . Two tables and four chairs in position by the front door of the town hall . The mayor looking very dapper in blazer , grey crimplene trousers and beige shoes . The red tartan pork pie hat adding just the right touch of informality . The mayors secretary , unsmiling and efficient , in a blue suit and black stockings. Overnight someone has drawn a moustache, horns and a tail on the poster for the far right candidate . The mayor wonders if he should paste up a replacement . Angus asks him if he has any glue . He doesn't . He doesn't have a new poster either . Decision making made easy .

For the great day Madame Mayor has made a large plate of honey croissants . These have pride of place on the first table. Honey in the dough , honey in the centre and a honey glaze . Heaven for those who like honey . Wilf falls very firmly into this category . He takes a piece from me, settles down on the floor and sighs . Being a gentleman he doesn't let on that he's already had half a croissant at the cafe under the arcades . He tucks in with relish . After much tongue licking the family fellow looks back at me as if to say " That was good . I'm hanging around for another eleven years ".

Old , blind , PON's know that life may have its regrets but it also has its consolations . Excitement over , Wilf heads home across the village green for a nap .