It really shouldn’t be allowed. I woke up this morning and went to open the curtains and there outside the window grinning in at me was a huge poster of some candidate from Sinn Fein. When I squinted to look down the street and across to the other side, the whole place was plastered with posters of every different colour, dozens of ‘em, from every party and no party, hanging off poles everywhere. The whole village was destroyed with ‘em and the next thing I see is that a poster of Enda and Michael Noonan is hanging on the pole just outside Peggy’s front door and I know she’ll be fit to be tied because apart from her antipathy to all politicians, the woman is just allergic to the two of them.
Then, just as I’m turning away from the window, who do I see but the bould Peggy advancing backwards out her front door manoeuvring something. I peer closer and open the window and there she is puffing and panting and she dragging a ladder out the front door. Before I can say anything, she gives a yelp of triumph as the ladder finally flies out the door so fast that she nearly falls over. But she rights herself pretty quick and lands the ladder smartly up against the pole and starts climbing. Jesus, my heart nearly stopped, I mean the woman is eighty if she’s a day and has rickety knees and there she is, actually clambering up a ladder and pulling down every poster on her way up so that Sinn Fein, Labour, Independent and Fianna Fáil are all in a heap on the pavement and the woman is still climbing because of course as luck would have it, Enda and Noonan are at the very top of the pole. From where I’m standing, I can see the ladder wobbling but Peggy has such a rage on her, she doesn’t even notice.
So I leave the window, my heart in my mouth and silently cursing the woman with all the swear words I know. I race downstairs in my pyjamas(thank God, they’re respectable and new from Penneys) and find myself at the bottom of the ladder holding it steady while I narrowly miss being rendered unconscious by Michael Noonan as he sails ignominiously just past my head and lands face downwards on the pavement beside me. All I can do is close my eyes and hold on grimly at the foot of the ladder and pray that the next three weeks pass by quickly and that we’ll all be still safe and sound and in the land of the living by the end of it.