Melvyn & Sharron Pearson |Tandragee|Co Armagh BT62
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It was downhill now a long 100 yards, but at least I could see the Armstrong residence
adjacent the road on the right-hand side. It was the last house of four going that
direction. We arrived to a warm and hearty welcome from my Granny Dinah, who would
have burst into song without a second thought, and bounced me on her knee in time
with the song, which was usually ‘’My Aunt Jane’’. My Granda William James showed
a more reserved salutation and a friendly puckered brow from hu
ge eyebrows was a
habitual greet.
The Armstrong house was an orderly, organized dwelling, a two storey
affair with three bedrooms, a never much used living room, set aside for visitors,
and a kitchen stroke parlour where a large proportion of ‘in the house’ time was
exhausted. A pantry led off the parlour at one end. This pantry was where food was
stored, but was immense enough for my Aunt Jean (Ginny) to stand and ‘put up’ the
lunches for the next days toil. A later renovation financed by cousin Billy was
to change the look of the dwelling, but this description is how I remember it as
a mere toddler. Certainly I had not attained the age of 4, school age. As these treks
to Derryallen would have then ceased somewhat.
The outside of the residence is also
vivid in my minds eye. Austere white with a slated roof and annually varying coloured
back door, window frames and sills. I recall yellow, black, red and blue being the
highlighted elected tint. A highly varnished front door leading to a smal
l hall,
I can never remember anyone calling at the front door at any time. All and sundry
entered by the back door. The downspouts leading from the guttering was gloss black
and pristine. A 40-gallon wooden drum, painted black with silver hoops, was sited
at each downspout that was calculatingly cut short to direct the rainwater into said
cask. As pre renovation the house had no mains water this was the means of collection.
The rainwater was used for
general use, washing clothes, and ones self-being the
main end users. Drinking water was procured from a natural spring well, situated
in the neighbouring yard owned by Johnny Robinson. The well had a lid and a homemade
rig consisting of a winch and pulley system, rope and bucket. The drop to the water
seemed a long, long way. I was always ushered well back from the well opening, but
could judge the drop of the bucket to the splash as being a relatively long interlude.
DERRYALLEN MEMORIES
