It was a Thursday but I kept thinking it was a Friday and each glance at the clock was a disappointment.
There are few things as boring as DEFRA questions. Except maybe Welsh questions.
I know there are possibly plans for badgers and still issues with trees but, my Christ, I just don't care. Apologies to the many farmers who read my blog, I know you will be heart broken at this admission.
The only thing to happen in the chamber to raise the eyebrow of yours truly was the nerve of Fiona MacTaggart moaning about ageism from the Prime Minister. The same MacTaggart who had to apologise to Chloe Smith some time last year over remarks about her youth. As a nation we must stop electing goldfish to Parliament.
It seemed that the estate, like the chamber, was quite empty today. It's as though everyone stayed for the main attraction of PMQs and then headed back to their constituencies yesterday. Louise Mensch tweeted about having a surgery today in her neck of the woods; the very idea of that mystifies the boss. “On a Thursday? When the House is still sitting? Does the three line whip mean so little to the new intake?”
“You once said the only three line whip you cared about was the type being held by a Madam.”
“I never said I was consistent, did I?”
By mid afternoon he'd pulled on his ridiculous wellies and marched out the door, shouting over his shoulder “To the homestead!”
This week has gone very fast but, bloody hell, it's aged me.
Toodles x.
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