17 Weeks to go

The tide was out in Dublin Bay and the seagulls were in as I crossed through the high point, literally and figuratively, of my run this morning. I love the view from Deer Park. The Spire on O'Connell street was still bright, the rest of the city a bit lost in the grey cloud of the early morning. The view sweeps right out over the Bay as far as Howth Head, with the Ringsend towers marking the horizon somewhere in between. The Atlantic has reclaimed her rights, with a loud assertive ongoing roar, over the climate of this little island! Another gale blows this morning. It was a short run at 3miles (5K), I kept it slow by singing quietly to myself. I do not have Etty's talents for music, my singing is best kept quiet! 
My primary distraction on this morning's run was the plethora of election posters, battered and bruised following the weekend's storm.  Oh the puns, the puns ... readers look away now, perhaps.  There were those fallen to the bottom of the pole (I warned you!), those who have already folded(!), those still standing upright, gazing confidently, willing to weather any storm. Should I mention those thrown together in a premature coalition and the few flapping, noisy but invisible?  Some are barely clinging on while others are lying covered in mud, never to regain their former glory. I could go on, but shall spare you, presuming the journalist wags of our country will have had similar thoughts.
I do have one question though, who is ETIHW?