Dear Theresa,

Well, it hasn't exactly been a, er, bundle of joy for you this week, has it? Talking of which, we were expecting the first of your weekly Brexit bundles on what to do in the event of a no deal, but all I could find is the ominously named Brexit toolkit issued by the Home Office. Is that the same thing? I'm confused.

Anyway, earlier this week you traveled to the northeast of the UK, to Newcastle, to tell locals there how great Brexit is going to work out for them. You were probably expecting to field some rather inane questions about it, when, out of the blue, someone asked about your hobbies. Now, I thought you would say something like, "I don't have time for hobbies, I'm too busy running the country and the Brexit shambles." Instead, with a look akin to terror on your face, you said: "I like walking, so my husband and I enjoy going walking when we can, taking holidays walking. I enjoy cooking, which has a benefit because you get to eat it as well as make it. I have over 150 cookbooks, so I spend quite a lot of time looking at cookbooks."

What's cooking?

Before you could say "I'll have a Chicken Tikka Masala," a tirade of scorn and ridicule poured over you — unfairly, in my opinion. I mean, that's almost up there with your daredevil childhood prank of "running through fields of wheat," much to the farmers' chagrin.

Just take your foible for cooking. Not only does food have the clear benefit of being available to eat: You can also stockpile it! It seems to me you're leading by good example to start hoarding food supplies in the event that EU food products get held up at the border and don't reach British households (all that French Brie, German sausage or Spanish Tapas is overrated anyway). In any case, anyone who by chance does eat spoiled EU food products will be fine. All they have to do is take an anti-diarrhea drug from their stockpile of medicines.

Look who's talking

Also this week you decided to take control of the Brexit talks. Excellent tactical move! You've monitored the shambles over the past two years, taken stock, worked on a plan and now you've moved in for the kill. You're in charge now, instead of that new minister who heads the Department for Exiting the European Union — I forget his name — or the other bloke who's in charge now at the Foreign Office.

Read more: Is the Brexit hard-liner European Research Group running the UK?

Just picture the scene: Over a bottle of delectable (French) wine, you can tell EU Commission President Jean-Claude Juncker and Brexit negotiator Michel Barnier, who's just torn up your brilliant Brexit plan, that you will have your cake and eat it (especially if you've baked it yourself).

Off for a walk

As far as I can tell, the only blip on the horizon is having to deal with that pesky electorate back home, who've expressed their dissatisfaction in two new polls. One poll concerns your approval ratings, and I'm afraid there's no sugarcoating it: You and your government are not very popular. The other poll shows that, for the first time, those in support of a referendum on a final Brexit deal outnumber those who do not.

Not to worry, though, the furor will have died down by the time you get back from your holiday. Talking of which, I hear you're off to Italy and Switzerland. Just imagine all those new recipes and cookbooks you can pick up in Bella Italia. And perhaps you'll get the opportunity while hiking in Switzerland (or: Schweiz, Suisse, Svizzera, Svizra — God, they're so European) to pick up some useful trade advice, given that the European Free Trade Association they are part of seems to be working for them (That reminds me: Should my fellow countrymen and women stock up on Toblerone and Milka chocolate bars?).

On that note, enjoy your break (Have a Kit Kat)!