<p>View of Carlingford from the sea</p>

View of Carlingford from the sea

Memories

John Haugh

29 January 2017

Wood carvingMore > (0 comments)

Molly Rafferty

29 January 2017


The Cooley Show
In the 1950s there was a disagreement at The Cooley Show as to which was The Best Horney Ram
of the show .Molly Rafferty from the Ramperts Greenore who worked for years in Woods' cafe in Newry Street Carlingford penned this poem to mark the occasion.
She makes reference to the following people:

“Big Dan” was Dan Ferguson of Castletown Cooley,father of Danny ,Ambose, Kitty, Gerard,Patsy, Phil and Josie.

Thomas Woods Newry St who farmed in Castletown Cooley father of Margaret Liam Tom and Eileen.

Andy White Castletown Cooley

“The Rev Doctor”:Was Doctor Callan P.P. Of Cooley

“Reillys mare”is reference to Reillys in Glenmore

''Walty'' was Walter Brown from Millgrange, a horseman and jockey who worked for some time for James Woods Eblana House Newry St.

Mc Donalds tent was the pub run by M J McDonald Park St Dundalk

Mr Kieran was the headmaster in The Bush Tec.as it was then

The Cooley Show
It was at the show in Cooley
That the incident took place
That caused a frown of worry
On the poor committee's face
For after all their trouble
and when things were running smooth
To think a man from Castletown
Could be so awfully rude

Some sheepmen were feeling cheerful
and were there to try their luck
When Big Dan Ferguson told the judge
“You wouldn't know a buck”

Tommy Woods was smiling
For he got the prize he sought
Big Dan held all the laurels
At the show ground in Dundalk.
Andy White was furious
At what his neighbour done,
To insult a Judge from Mourne
After asking him to come.

Now Dan was very angry
And he says “Youse know quite well
That there's not a Woods in Carlingford
Would beat my Horney Ram”

Walty went for the Rev.Doctor
To get him on the sod
For if anyone could stop the row
'twas the Holy man of God.
But the Doctor wasn't listening
He says “excuse me,but I'm wanted over there,
there's an important matter to be settled
Concerning Reilly's mare”

Then Mister Kieran intervened
And took Big Dan away
And off they went to Mc Donald's tent
To finish off the day.
And as Dan stood at the counter
He vowed that let it be his loss or gain
That a Mourne judge at a Cooley show
Would never stand again.

Molly Rafferty R.I.P.
Wednesday, July 08 2009 - 05:58 PM
More > (0 comments)

Gabrielle Whitty (Woods)

29 January 2017

Coming Home.

The pain of leaving this place could only be endured with the certain knowledge that we would return. So when that day arrived Daddy was always the one to collect who ever had been away. Driving home filled with excitement, waiting for that first glimpse of the mountains just after Dunleer. Grandchildren coming from Kerry re-named them Papa's Mountains because they knew they were nearly there. Coming in the old Dundalk road, past The Bush,until we came to the Cross of Grange, turning left here, and up and up we climbed until be were at the highest part of the road. Daddy would stop the car and taking in the sweep of the Mourns, the blue of the Lough, Maeve's Gap, Finn lying along the crest of Slieve Foy, he would turn to the one who had been away and say,

"You see it was here all the time just waiting for you"More > (0 comments)

Kevin Woods

29 January 2017

Remembering a Mother

“Would you have a room with a view”? He asked.
“No” says I, “but there is a lovely view from the dining room for breakfast in the morning”
The man introduced himself as John from Canada. He was in his late 40s, with a rough-hewed face that had experienced troubled times. He wore a leather jacket and britches and sported a Harley Davidson tee shirt. His hair fell about 3 feet down his back and was gathered together neatly with a rubber band. He was with his petite wife, an American lady – pretty and softly spoken.
I showed them the view from the dining-room which overlooks a small park, then Carlingford Lough and the Mourne Mountains.
There is a statue of the bull in the park and she enquired if there was a story associated with it.
“It’s the Brown Bull of Cooley” I told her
“What’s that about” she enquired
I told her the story of the Brown Bull and Queen Maeve.
Beside the Bull there is a statue of a white horse
“So is there a story attached to the white horse too” she asked
“It’s the Ghost Horse of Mountain Park” and I launched into the tale.
“Did you ever hear” says I “about The Last Leprechauns of Ireland”
They shook their heads and off I went again relating the story as fast as ever it was told. Close to the end I turned and looked at John. Tears ran down his cheeks.
Sorry John are you ok! I asked
“Kevin” he said “My Mam was born across the water in Rostrevor and left for Canada in her early 20s.She use to tell me stories about Ireland and the Leprechauns and Fairies. She never got back home but I promised that someday I would come to Ireland and scatter her ashes among the land of the little people and the home of all the stories she use to tell me as a boy. That’s why I am here, and I think she brought me here to you.
I got out my book “The Last Leprechaun’s of Ireland” and signed it for him with a dedication to the memory of his mother.
The following morning while serving breakfast to both of them I was introduced to “Mam” who accompanied them in a jar placed on the breakfast table. Her photograph was on the side of the jar: she was a beautiful looking woman and definitely in life had the face of a storyteller. John and his wife didn’t bat an eyelid while she stood there and they talked about her like she was sitting on a chair. To them it seemed natural enough that she should be sitting on the table looking out over the Lough and towards her home in Rostrevor.
I brought them that morning by car to Mountain Park and to the area where the Leprechauns live and that is under protection by the EU. He scattered her ashes on Carlingford mountain looking down over Rostrevor and his eyes filled up again as he remembered her love for him and his for her and the stories she told him so many years before back home in Canada.
John left Carlingford that day. He said it was a place he would never forget.

More > (0 comments)

Aisling Woods McCormack

29 January 2017

A Visit to Nana Hilda Woods

I arrive home to Carlingford from Clane with my 3 year old son Mark in toe and have an urge to pay someone special a visit. Time is of the essence and we need exactly that, time, to catch up. "Leave Mark here" Mum and Dad insist, and "off you go"!
"Are you sure?" I reply, one foot already half way out the door! "I wont be long" I cry, but leave a dinner to reheat for Mark just in case!

A cool breeze sweeps over my face as I stride past the lough. Ghan House prompts stories already told in my minds eye. Up the hill, I glance through the gate of Trinity and reflect on those who have long since past and journey on happily to reach Abbey Court!

Front door wide open, welcoming anyone who might call, I breeze in but she's not there. Investigating further I find her out the back, head in the freezer contemplating her menu for that evening. "Hi Nana" I say. Her eyes upon me "Oh Aisling"! I can see her yet, her voice singing with delight.

Before we know it , we are both crouched comfortably on the floor of her bijou sitting room, our backs resting against the cushioned armchairs which sit in front of the fireplace. Coffees in hand (hers black, lots of sugar) we are toasting and ready for chat. I glance at the her clock on the mantlepiece - 1:45pm.

There were many stories that day! I was utterly consumed by her elegance and eloquence, how she intertwined stories within stories, "never losing sight of the rat"! Dancing with Papa in the kitchen of Binnion, Giblet soup at their annual Christmas Eve parties, Meeting Papa for the first time, "Auntie" and her ever sniffling nose, Comic book pages being thrown into the Aga in an effort to discipline naughty children always reminding me what an unabounding love she had for each and every one of them, all different and all very special in their own right.

I am mesmerized and almost don't hear the phone ring. I pickup. Its Dad. Mark is distressed and looking for his Mum. I look at the clock, 5:45pm! Time, never enough time! 97 years and still not enough time!

"I have to go Nana" I whisper, and squeeze her tightly telling her I love her. "Love you too Ais", she says warmly, giving me a wink. " I'll visit you again when next I'm home!"

And I will, only this time you will be with Papa when I come.

Love you always and forever!

Ais
IP Address:
109.76.6.75
Tuesday, July 06 2010 - 11:38 PM
More > (0 comments)