You can’t miss it. Right up on the pole outside the house he is, looking down on us as we’re going out the gate. He’s some chancer – Patsy Duggan. I might have known he’d pull something. Public meeting my eye. The posters have been up since Christmas about this public meeting. But we all know what it is.

“Kilsudgeon’s Glorious 1916 Past – an Information Session facilitated by Patsy Duggan” is what the small print says. But the big print is his oul face. It’s an election poster, pure and simple.

If there’s one thing annoys me about this place is that it always elects Patsy Duggan. He split from The Other Crowd years ago. I don’t even know why it was. I think he was opposing something and then, as luck would have it, he lost the leg in a car crash. Shur he was home free then for every election after that. He doesn’t even have to try. The last election he just had one huge poster on the way into Kilsudgeon.

But he must be feeling the pinch now because he lost Castlejivens when they changed the boundary, so he’s all out now with the posters and the canvassing.

He won’t come around here though. He knows what I think of him. He made a complete show of us after he was on the Prime Time looking for a cut of money off a journalist for a “Fuel Plaza”.

I went right up to him and told him outside mass: “You’re a disgrace Patsy.”

Then Deirdre rang me.

“Mam, there’s something I need to talk to you about, she said. “Are you online?”

“No. I’ve plenty of things to be doing. What would I be doing online?”

“You’re only just after commenting on that Facebook thing Auntie Geraldine put up about mindfulness yoga. So you mustn’t be offline long.”

(You can’t get away with a thing these days. Geraldine is always putting up oul mindfulness stuff these days. I just put “Mind yourself” as a reply on it but then the phone put one of these little images “emotis” or something)

“And why did you put a steam train emoji after it?” says Deirdre. “Anyway, never mind that. Go on to Patsy Duggan’s Facebook page there.

…

“Are you on it?”

“Hang on a second, I’ve to type out P.A.T.S… OK so, go on.”

“Now, look at the photo at the top of his campaign launch.”

Photo of campaign launch. Right … yes …

“Wasn’t there a mighty crowd there? Where was this taken now I wonder? … Oh right, at the Drumfanlish Castle Hotel Spa Estate Resort and Country Club. Now, what about it?”

“Have a look at the photo, next to Patsy.

“Next to Patsy … OH MY GOD”

“Patrick, Mammy. Our Patrick. And read the caption.”

“Patrick Devine – Social Media Connector for the Patsy Duggan Re-election Campaign.” Oh Jesus, Deirdre.

“I know Mammy. You’d better ring him.”

He knew well what I was calling him about.

“Don’t start, Mammy.”

“Don’t ‘don’t start Mammy’ me. How could you be mixed up with such a yoke as that, Patrick. I didn’t think you gave two hoots about politics.

“Look Mam – it’s real politik. He could be the kingmaker. I was watching ? Mammy. He’s the fella you want to be hitching your wagon to. He’s the Frank Underwood of Kilsudgeon. Look at him, one leg, caught rotten looking for money on telly and still going strong. That’s the way the world is going Mammy.”

WHO AM I TALKING TO AT ALL?

“I’m going nowhere Mammy – dairy science isn’t my style at all. Patsy says I could be a bit of a dark horse.”

“PATRICK DEVINE I’M ASHAMED OF YOU”

“But shur didn’t he get Nana’s medical card that time?” says Patrick

We’re all the same really.