DIARY OF A MOWING HILL NOBODY
By Tamzin Lightwater Great balls of justiciable fire! If one more person asks me to write a memo about 'optouts' I will explode. People are talking in fluent Alphabetti Spaghetti. It's all 'IGC mandates' this, and `QMV' that, as if anyone had the faintest clue what they were on about.
And what are 'justiciable rights' anyway, when they are at home? Clearly a made-up word or a mistake by the silly Belgian translators. Disgraced myself this morning by asking if The Passerelle Clause was a book written by Robert Harris. How was Ito know it was another bit of the beastly Constitution, or whatever they are calling it now. . . .
Stole a copy of The Bluffer's Guide to the EU Treaty from Foxy's office. It seems Article Six is making everyone particularly crosspatchy — but as you have to read footnote 19 to the IGC mandate to find out why, I don't suppose I'm ever going to work it out. Wonder if I can pay Wonky Tom to take me to secret location and feed me everything I need to know in one session, as it were.
TUESDAY Dave's first ever Prime Ministerial Press Conference went off like a dream! It all looked so realistic. I played a notinsignificant role, placing the yukka plant to the right of the lectern: it's the little things that get you to the Tipping Point of the Long Tail. Oh yes. Jed v pleased and says that as we are going to hold these once a month I may even be offered a permanent role in 'Strategic Ambiance Management' — my first really heavyweight title!!
Have decided to start knitting Jed a traditional yet modern shawl for his new baby-on-the-way — from organically produced wool, natch. Went to the craft shop at lunchtime. Asked if they had any crueltyfree wool from sheep that asked to be sheared, and a lady called Beryl said that would depend v much on your view of how it felt to be a sheep. Couldn't think about that as brain still aching from EU Treaty, so took some white wool that smelt a bit funny on the basis that most organic things do.
(Especially those trainers of Dave's made from car tyres! Gah!) WEDNESDAY I knew it would all end in tears. No good can come of something so complicated. Now Gary and Jed are arguing like mad about how much EU-ery we can get away with. Mr Hague is particularly stressed because he's got the Tombstone lot on his case, and is humming nervously even more than usual. Says if we don't give him the authority to cave in to their demands immediately, he's going to resign and take up that offer to be UN Goodwill Ambassador for Judo. He says `the Three Stooges' are on the rampage — I think he means Mr Redwood, Captain Smithy and Mr Cash. I must admit, I wouldn't want them standing outside my office waving their silly placards. Anyway, I must get on. Am on row 13. Knitting is seriously addictive. Some sort of research into its role in Breakdown Britain might be in order. Also, I have to go back to craft shop to see Beryl every time I drop a stitch. I'm not getting much work done.
THURSDAY Up all night getting to row 27, and so late in today. Jed took me on one side and told me if I didn't buck my ideas up I could forget about Pot-Plant Management. Feel v bruised. Why shouldn't I be able to knit in my breaktimes? It's freedom of expression isn't it? Aren't there Charters of Fundamental Rights that cover this sort of thing? Now that would be worth voting for.
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