Barnaby's a regular guest at Berry Manor, almost part of the furniture.
(In dim, drunken light I've often mistaken him for the mahogany tallboy Joe McCarthy presented me for my work on his committee. 'Don't dare put that glass on me Lamington!', Barnaby crows if he sees me squinting with tumbler in hand).
Our friendship stretches back to his days as a bouncer and the night in 1986 when he ejected me from the Wicklow Hotel in Armidale.
I'd been burning up the dance floor, putting on a show with moves I'd mastered at Studio 54.
New England had never seen the likes of it.
However, near midnight, trouble brewed when my perfect pelvic thrusting to 'The Timewarp' from The Rocky Horror Picture Show entranced several women, enraging some local mouth-breathing ruffians.
There was some pushing and shoving before Barnaby intervened, escorting me from the premises. He saved those lads from a jolly good flogging and also my political career.
We've been fast friends since.
He's been on sabbatical at the Manor for the last several months, preparing for the final examination that will fulfill his lifelong dream of becoming a certified Hip Hop Grandmaster.
Each day he paces the Manor grounds, avoiding the flamingos, practicing his performance piece - Big Daddy Kane's 'Sex According to the Prince of Darkness'.
'Baby you're bound to perspire, when I use
the nipples on your breasts just like a pacifier'
the nipples on your breasts just like a pacifier'
The Federal Minister for Agriculture can lay down some wicked rhymes.
I suspect, once he's a certified Grandmaster, he'll finally give into Jay Z's pestering to leave politics and join his world tour full time.
But I digress.
At midday I had coffee with Verity Barton, the urbane and passionate public transport advocate who represents the electorate of Broadwater for the LNP.
Ms Barton and I meet in Ippy each each week as part of the Premier's 'Young LNP MP Mentoring' program.
I admit I'd initially hoped to take the Member for Lytton, Neil Symes, under my wing.
Neil's male, but besides that, he and I share a legal background.
I'm past president of the Queensland Law Society, Neil was criminologist in the Woolies deli department. I don't deny I envisaged professional partnership in the lucrative world of smallgoods litigation. This is the LNP after all, entrepreneurial to our core.
But it was wasn't to be.
However, I'm happy to report that Ms Barton won me over the moment she described rail passengers as 'icky'.
'You've a future minister on your hands here, Berry!', I thought.
The first issue we discussed at our mentoring meetings was her lack of transport.
Unusually for a Tory MP, Ms Barton doesn't have access to private aviation or a hovercraft. It was a deplorable situation.
'Oh Lord Lamington', she said supping her Caramel Macchiato, 'I'm have to drive myself everywhere! I just don't know how I can afford the petrol and maintenance on my $200,000!'
This was problem, I agreed.
She drew a deep breath.
'It gets worse', she continued, 'Coming along the highway this morning, several times I heard a totally weird beeping from my rear view mirror. I've no idea what it means'.
I didn't either.
'I'm sure it's nothing to worry about', I soothed, 'I suspect it's just a respectful beep to mark the passing of a Tory. I'd ignore it'.
Ms Barton said she would do just that and the beeping became something of a joke at the beginning of our meetings.
'Did you hear any beeps this morning Ms Barton?', I'd josh.
'Ten of them Lord Lamington!', she'd guffaw, 'And I expect I'll hear ten more on the way home!'
I'm certain she's destined for greatness in the LNP. Her star is on the rise. Not bad for a woman.
Today she mentioned something about a fine and losing her licence but my mind had drifted to falconry.
Nothing important, I'm sure.
Until next time.
Lord Lamington.
