Po­lit­i­cal weaponry and very big wa­ter pis­tols

Harefield Gazette - - OPINION - Ev­ery week BAR­BARA FISHER looks at is­sues that af­fect us all – the is­sues that get you talk­ing. You can join in by email­ing bmail­bar­bara@gmail.com Bm@il

IT’S all get­ting very bib­li­cal in po­lit­i­cal cir­cles. Cain and Abel – the Miliband broth­ers – are still not speak­ing but David, it seems, may be plan­ning to re­turn in 2017 to lead Labour to the Promised Land.

The mod­er­ate rank and file may de­cide to kill the fat­ted calf and let him take over then, but in the mean­time will Jeremy Cor­byn take them across the Red Sea?

Newly elected Lib Dem leader, de­vout Chris­tian Tim Far­ron has been bat­ting off jour­nal­ists who have been try­ing to trip him up on what con­sti­tutes a sin. Abor­tion? Gay mar­riage? Eat­ing deep fried Mars Bars?

It makes a change from jibes about stu­dent fees suf­fered by his pre­de­ces­sor I sup­pose.

Most in­trigu­ing is that our own MP has, as I write, been rapped over the knuck­les by the Home Sec­re­tary and told that he can’t smite any Philistines with his wa­ter cannon.

Is this re­ally, as has been sug­gested, more to do with jostling for po­si­tion for who even­tu­ally takes over from Cameron – the fron­trun­ners be­ing May, John­son and Os­borne? If so, we’ve got years of it to look for­ward to. Oh Lordy.

Boris, I sus­pect will not be putting his ma­chines on eBay just yet. I bet he’s locked the sec­ond­hand Ger­man wa­ter can­nons in his garage in case he ever has to lie down in front of bull­doz­ers to stop a third run­way at Heathrow.

David and Go­liath all over again? And which one would he be?

STILL look­ing af­ter our daugh­ter’s cat, we con­tin­ued to worry about him es­cap­ing from the house and head­ing back to Wales. In­evitably he out­wit­ted us. My ear-split­ting squeals ac­com­pa­nied the de­ter­mined streak of ginger which flew past my feet as I in­no­cently signed for a par­cel at the front door.

Many thanks to our bril­liant neigh­bours who helped search for him, par­tic­u­larly a very de­ter­mined Dave who found a cat, al­beit not the one we had mis­laid.

But a spe­cial debt of grat­i­tude must go to the poor post­man who pointed out as I ran past him into the road shriek­ing ‘Stop Him’ that I was in my night­clothes and just about to lock my­self out of the house. Jan­gles did re­turn in­de­pen­dently and is now al­lowed out on pa­role. I just hope he’s not an­noy­ing the neigh­bours. That would be a bit­ter irony.

Email me! bmail­bar­bara@gmail. com

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