Wet behind the years... number the first...

Since our long-time, if rather reluctant, contributor, the Hon Minister for the Europisation of Malta has been shown the door by the recently re-elected PM, we were momentarily at a loss with what to replace him.

Happily, our mole within the corridor (there's only one, corridor, not mole) of power, has come up with an equable solution.

He has found some wonderfully indiscreet observations on the private blog of the newly appointed Parliamentary Secretary for Fooling Some of the People, Some of the Time, at the Ministry for Obfuscation. Or, as it's known in Cabinet: The Ministry for Conning the Mugs.

So here goes:

Sunday
To show how keen I am in my new - and very important - post, I ask my wife Angelika to nip out and buy all the Sunday newspapers, Maltese and British. And - since we've only been married 10 months and she is still trying her hardest to please me, she complies willingly.

I see that the interview I gave to Malta Yesterday is given due prominence. But strangely, I seem to look fat in the accompanying photo. At least that's what Angelika thinks. I blame their photographer, he would insist on photographing me from below - and this always seems to give the impression that I have more chins than I actually have.

Monday
Since I'm only a PS, at the moment, I'm not really supposed to go to Cabinet meetings. But since today is the first since Gonzi-PN became Gonzi-Malta, my fellow PSs and I are allowed a quick peek at the Cabinet room.

Gonzi-Malta addresses us in his beautifully acquired Churchillian manner, by auguring that we'll all work together for a better, fairer and greener Malta. Gosh! I'm so fired-up by his inspirational rhetoric I dash back home and give Angelika a good seeing-to.

Well Gonzi-Malta did say that everybody must play his part. So I was only following orders.

Wednesday
I must say I'm not terribly enamoured with the office I've been given at the Ministry for Obfuscation. It looks like, no it is, a cupboard under the stairs.

But when I raise the issue with the permanent sec, he says: "Yes I know it's rather cramped. But once we're a bit more organised we'll try and find you somewhere a bit more... fitting."

I don't want somewhere more fitting! If it's any more fitting than this place it'll be skin-tight.

Friday
Although I'm fairly new to politics, nothing gives me more pleasure than to meet some of the party's veterans who remember my father's time as a much respected and dearly loved minister.

Today, for example, when visiting a suitably middle-class old people's home, a dear old man comes up to me and - with tears in his eyes - says: "You must be is-Sur Gino's son."

And when I reply that yes, he does have the honour to be addressing his son, his eyes well up with tears once more and - with a trembling lip - he mutters: "Then tell the old sod I haven't forgotten he still owes me a fiver." It's times like that, which make entering politics so rewarding.

Saturday
Today I have been allocated my very first public duty as Parliamentary Secretary for Fooling Some of the People, Some of the Time. Wow! This is sooooo exciting. My minister nominates me, yes me, to stand-in for him at the Ħal-Siġar Rural Rabbit and Goat Fest.

This is a centuries-old and important rural folklore festival, including għana singers, folk dancing and rural crafts like shirt-lifting and Chihuahua-baiting.

I am also treated to a festive meal in the village square where - as guest of honour - I get to try Ħal-Siġar culinary specialities, such as a wonderfully rich and nutritious stew and some potent but delicious country brandy. I am less thrilled when told by the village mayor that the stew I was so delighted with is made out of fermented rabbit droppings and the brandy is distilled goat wee.