A (temporary) farewell to arms.

I've been away. Four days in Vienna and now four days in Budapest. From where I write this. Tomorrow at this time I will be in.........Kilsyth. The day after that, back at my work.

Time passes quickly.

But it still needs to pass.

I've now seen a lot of General Elections. Enough to appreciate their importance.

Less than a month ago there was such an event. And my team lost.

For all the hysteria of Jeremy at Glastonbury, and the "close" vote on the Queen's speech, and now today's anti austerity march, when the dust settles, the Tories will still have won the election. 56 seats more than us. Even piling (improbably) Ian Blackford's Nats (35), the Libs (12) Plaid (4) and the Green (1) into the "progressive" column. still 4 seats more than us all put together. Only with the DUP also on board (10) do "we" take the lead. And of course no reasonable person would ever do a deal with the DUP. At least I think that's right.

But the point is, that's it. For five years on the main stage and probably even four in the Scottish side tent.

Elections get (some) people very excited about politics. So much so that they are reluctant to let go. I have been there myself. In 1979 as a mere boy and, in a different context, 1992. When I should have been old enough to know better.

But  eventually you come down to earth. The demonstrations get smaller and the realisation, and resignation, larger. It is over until the next time.

And the next time is now a relatively long time away.

For there is not now going to be a nationwide election (or indeed anything except the occasional by-election) in Scotland until at least 2020. Almost three years away. By which time children not yet even conceived will be potty trained. Spotty kids without a Standard Grade to their name will be at university. Some people will be married to others they haven't yet even met, while others will be divorced from those from whom today they regard themselves as inseparable.

I personally will have made and banked money from the latter. And from those prosecuted for crimes not yet committed together with the victims of accidents not yet to have happened.

And indeed, if the election hiatus stretches to 2021, I might not even be here myself. Having carried through my (theoretical at least) plan to retire in September 2020 and thereafter to retire to Italy.

And last, but by no means least, some of you reading this will almost certainly have shuffled off your mortal coil and joined the choir eternal. Sorry. Well sorry unless you are a Catholic. Or a Prebyterian for whom the spinning coin of predestination has landed the right side up.

I'll probably keep blogging from time to time. About what Nicola will tell the 2018 SNP October Conference. About when the volunteer will go, who will replace her, and how long she'll then allow before rejoinining the SNP. About whether Ruth will ever raise her standard for a march on London and if so who might then rally to it.

But big politics, real politics, is about elections. Who the armies will then comprise, and who their generals then might be, is not unimportant. But it is not the stuff of which a weekly blog is made.

So, I'll see you soon. But perhaps not too soon.