John McCullagh October 12, 2011

‘You’re gonna be eating strange bread!’ said Minnie the Caddy, running her finger round the rim of the tea-cup. She was telling a fortune, in her little cottage up the flank of Slieve Martin, near Rostrevor.

John McCullagh August 31, 2011

The traffic was stopped in every direction, waiting for us .. or for the donkey. Everybody came up with ideas or gave a hand. Would that donkey put a foot on the wooden bridge? No. It was like Delaney’s donkey in that song.

John McCullagh August 4, 2011

It’s over fifty years ago now. These five girls and one boy posed for the camera perched on a large rock against the backdrop of the old and deserted Willis’s Bakery. 

John McCullagh August 4, 2011

Isn’t it amazing how expressive – how illustrative – indeed how thoroughly familiar are the old black-and-white photos of our childhood? The central figure in this poignant tableau is Ann Boyle of Castle Street.  Her proud father Louis Boyle – Newry taxi-driver when there were no more than a half-dozen of them altogether – shows […]

John McCullagh July 4, 2011

  When we arrived at Crieve ‘Dart’ Sands was standing in the compound with a smile on his face like a Cheshire cat. Services rendered I paid Mr Sands ten shillings and sixpence. 

John McCullagh July 3, 2011

  One night in early autumn I was awakened to the sound of short, sharp moos. I instinctively knew that this was Bridget and the mooing continued through the night. The next morning, Grandpa says to me,

John McCullagh July 2, 2011

  I was so excited when Granda told me that we were getting our first Friesian cow.  The following morning my four sons and I waited patiently for the cattle lorry to arrive.