Trouble never far away as witches predict snow and political surprises

EACH year at this time my faithful readers are invited to behold the same Shakespearean scene. Three witches, hideous to behold, their cackling voices grating on the ear, gathered around a fire in the depths of the forest. As we draw nearer, we see them dropping unmentionable animal parts into a boiling, bubbling pot.

They peer deep into the entrails of the cauldron every time they stir it, and then utter a dire prediction for next year. Stir by stir, month by month, until they have forecast all the major events of the year. Usually, they get more of their predictions right than wrong — provided, of course, that my readers interpret them correctly. Last year my three witches foretold of the great benefits that departing ministers would receive — even though their wildest surmise turned out to be well short of the actual financial bonanza that accrued to several.

I will leave it to faithful readers to determine whether they are right or wrong about next year.