Time was when UK Prime Ministers were decided on the playing fields of Eton, but the political landscape has changed. Gazing out of the window, I realise the battleground is much closer to home. I rarely get political, but now the election is literally in our backyard. Let’s take a look.

We all know what the conservatories stand for.

Sun-lounges are really the same thing, only with working-class aspirations.  There’s even space for a lectern these days.

Those might be the two main contenders, but there are plenty more. The Greens are, obviously, the greenhouse. Well, they call it a greenhouse, though it’s more of a glorified poly-tunnel. With a solar panel.

The gazebo embodies the Lib-Dems. Nobody’s sure what it’s for, but there are still a few seats in there. A couple of people are holding it down to stop the wind blowing it away completely.

If you go up the garden a bit, you’ll find the Wendy house. It’s small yet perfectly formed, and has everything anyone might want, twee tartan wallpaper included. 

UKIP have gone and got themselves some nasty garages.

And you can’t go in. Especially not you. Or you. Oi, there are far too many of you. Clear off.

Plaid Cymru have got a kind of shed, called a penty, a bwthyn or a gollyngant or something. It’s a very nice comfy shed, if you don’t mind a little bleating. It’s just the sheep sheltering inside, see?

The Respect party is the makeshift garden swing. It’s out on a limb, some splits have appeared, and the rope looks a bit dodgy. But don’t you dare diss it.

The National Health Action Party have got the first aid tent, and the Monster Raving Loonies have bagged themselves the bouncy castle. Then there’s the potting shed, headquarters of the Cannabis is Safer than Alcohol Party. It looks kind of chilled, man.

I don’t think there’s much doubt about this one. Dress the BNP up however you want. It will always stink.

Have you seen the chimenea in the corner? Nobody dares move the Trade Union & Socialist Coalition, so it still has its space on the patio.  There’s real fire in its belly, and if you get too close the coals spit at you.

There are others too, like the DUP, SDLP, Sinn Féin and the UUP across the pond. You can’t see them from here, though you can occasionally hear them.

Of course I couldn’t possibly comment on the real pros and cons of any of the parties. On May 7 you get to choose who will lead you down the garden path.