I’M lucky. I have a voice, right here on the pages of the Advertiser, and an editor who pretty much gives me carte blanche to write about whatever I fancy.

Most people don’t get a platform like I do, so while I’d rather write about strawberries, cricket, fairies knitting dreams with magic wool, and at the same time subtly promoting my lovely shop, it would be irresponsible of me not to focus on the things that happen in this town that ain’t so fluffy.

Since the EU referendum there have been several cases of open racism in Ludlow. Right here in my town, and your town. It’s utterly despicable, and so very, very sad. As a town, and a species we ought to be better than this.

The people who have been subjected to this sort of abuse do not have a voice. They have to take it, because it’s been given to them. It’s the worst sort of playground bullying that has come about through sheer ignorance and mindlessness. It’s not about whether you want to be in or out of Europe, it’s about respect and decency, and good old-fashioned manners. Why the place of one’s birth, the colour of one’s skin, or who one chooses to share a bed with (yes, this sort of hatred has been rearing its head, too) should be of concern to anyone else is beyond me. And probably you, but not all of you.

This bile was here before Brexit, it’s always been here, but it’s never been okay. Our future is on a knife-edge. Things might be alright, they might not. Either way, it’s surely better if we can do our best to get on with one another, get on board with the 21st century and GROW THE HECK UP?

Twenty five words left to write about food then. Sadly, it will have to wait until next time.