Poor Gordon Edgar, beaten by Carolyn in the elections, probably missing the cash and his train entering Holyrood – his grapes (or is it gripes?) must be pretty bitter.

But the main accolade must go to that fine B&B proprietor who has reminded us about the Gala bells. Now they will ring out and tell of our fellow heroes and those who returned to enrich the Border scene.

Tom Douglas's late father being one.

I picture him traipsing through the Malayan jungle with his mules, as he fought under Wingate to protect our Indian Empire. I see him now as his ghost reappears to lampoon and lance these petty bureaucrats from the standards office.

The art of government is the interpretation of the laws for the benefit of the local population, and the object of employing all these many council officials (doesn't the term make you bowk?) is to make life better. Maybe they are right.

A couple of lean-tos on Asda and Tesco and you could cover the whole of Galashiels, and it would be just like a new town – no tradition, no feel.

Meantime keep voting Carolyn, chosen by the people and trying hard, even if occasionally unappreciated.

Miles Browne

West Mains

Gordon