Euronews are running a piece on the Irish elections this morning. A clip showing Enda Kenny casting his vote in the company of (that gorgeous creature - his words, not mine) his wife has the following voice-over:

Fine Gael leader, Enda Kenny, has said she will do everything in her power to prevent Sinn Féin playing king-maker in the new government.

For regular readers: This is a temporary disruption to the temporary disruption to service … because something is really bugging me.

Last year I had a visit from a local County Council official as part of Minister Dick Roche’s clean up of the electoral register. I invited her in, made tea and laid out some nice biscuits. She was cute. But as well as that, I wanted to finally get my family’s records straight.

Okay, I said, see this woman here on your list. Well that’s my mum. She’s been dead nine years now. I’ve written to, and emailed the Council in the run up to every election and referendum to tell them this. I’ve filled out forms. I’ve phoned them. Yet she’s still on the list. Can you finally put this right?

Sure, she said, writing deceased beside the name with her biro and a custard cream.

While we’re on the subject, I added, this man here. My father. He died the summer gone, so you can mark him off too and save me wasting bits and bytes and bandwidth trying to tell the Council.

Deceased was marked on her list in blue ink and dark chocolate.

Now to me, I said sitting back. I could sense her thinking this could take a while and having a slight panic attack at the thoughts of the bikkies running out.

I want to be taken off the list that’s made available to marketing companies. This is something else I’ve been trying to get the Council to do since cosmetics were called make-up. Done, she said, all pleased with her efficiency.

Then the tone changed. I knew this would happen - were down to a broken custard cream and plain digestives.

I have a question for you: You are on my list as Mr. Sneeze, in the townland of Knockadollie, Ballybeag. But we are sitting here in the townland of Knockanudder, Ballymor. Can you explain that?

Ah, I explained, it’s really simple: This is the only house on the road in Knockanudder. The Ballymor postman would have to come all the way over here for just one house. But the Ballybeag lad passes the door. So years ago, the P&T (yes, it was that long ago), decided the sensible thing to do would be for us to use a postal address of Knockadollie. Clear?

Eh, yeah. I think. Soooo, which would you prefer on the register?

At this stage, she was down to licking the wrappers so I knew she wouldn’t stay any longer, and rather than saying it didn’t matter, which might prolong things, I just said, Knockadollie’s fine.

Grand so. I’ll look after all of this. You’ve been very helpful. Thanks for your time. Oh, and the bikkies were lovely.

To make a long story longer, this week, polling cards arrived for both my parents. I got junk mail for Readers Digest. And to cap it all, I got two polling cards for myself - one for the polling station in Ballymor and one for Ballybeag.

There are now three cards, surplus to requirements, and a prize-draw entry sitting on the hall table. Any takers?

So much for Dick Roche’s big clean up. And as for the Council official - well she really took the biscuit.

ps. Normal temporary disruption now resumed.

pps. New blogroll category added to the side bar: Useful Links. First one is an Irish language spell-checker for Mozilla (Firefox/Thunderbird). Cool! Bock, Eolaí, MacKozer - you guys will love this.