There are no blue plaques in our village, no Heaney or Shackelton or Yeats to commemorate. A notable event is the starter-motor going in Tom Barry’s car, or a bellowing bullock, lodged in a bog drain, or the milk lorry clipping one of the granite bridges and five fellas coming out from the Council to inspect it. The stone bulk of the mill is what you notice first. At one time it was a tannery that reeked of rotting flesh....
