Lighten Up: Auld Lehane heads to Brussels to fix the CAP

Alas, the CAP fits some heads better than others. That's the way it's always been, writes our Auld Lehane in this week's Lighten Up.

Our Auld Lehane is away to Brussels to sort out the next CAP in this week's Lighten Up, but he only has one key concern.

I will be heading out to Brussels tomorrow morning to help with the CAP.

I'm very excited. I will be flying first class, obviously, all paid for by EU funding. The powers that be are at loggerheads over the CAP, and so the call went out for auld Lehane to come and try and sort out the mess.

And I will sort out the mess. For if there is one thing I know about in farming, it's messes and sorting them out. Or at the very least, brushing them up.

A CAP deal will be struck. Make no mistake about that. Auld Lehane is on the case now. And if I have to spit on every hand from here to Timbuktu, in order to strike a deal, I will do so.

I didn't get where I am today in farming without knowing how to strike a deal. If I can buy a pony up there in Cahirmee, or a trailer load of weanling bulls in Macroom, you can be sure that I can strike a million dollar deal in Brussels.

Yerra, that's the easy part. It will be easy to strike a CAP deal, for it's always the same deal. It has been the same deal for over 30 years.

Big farmers get the lion's share, while the smaller lads, like you and me, the fellows who could really do with a leg up, get peanuts. But better a peanut than no nut at all.

Alas, the CAP fits some heads better than others. That's the way it's always been. It won't change. Anyhow, what concerns me more is the breakfast.

I hear the continental breakfast out there in Brussels, Paris or wherever I'm headed, can be lacking. You might get a banana instead of a fry, or a glass of water instead of something stronger.

And sure that's no good to a growing man like me. That simply won't do. Indeed, it could well be the straw that breaks the camel's back.

For whether 'tis Charles DeGaulle or the Mayor of Kathmandu that I'm having breakfast with, if a fry isn't forthcoming, the whole CAP thing will be thrown out of the pram with the baby.

I'll sign nothing on an empty stomach.

Anyhow, as you might expect, the EU will be sending out a big Limousine to collect me first thing in the morning, but I told them to be very wary heading up the lane, for it can be treacherous at this time of the year.

"The arse of the car will be torn from under you, if you are not careful," I warned.

And of course the cattle here will be looked after by the secret service or some other agency, in my absence. Ursula von der Leyen herself has assured me that my herdeen will be cared for with great diligence.

"The eight young lads," I warned her, "will need a half bag of ration every day."

"Beef nuts or calf ration?" Ursula asked. "Ursula girl," says I, "so long as it comes out of a bag, I couldn't care less."

So with everything under control here in Kilmichael, wish me luck as I head out to Brussels in the morning to fight for farmers and for a good breakfast.