My main Christmas Eve memory, c 1950, is of my Grandmother Maire Sean Ned of Knockarasser killing the goose for Christmas Day.
Grandma used to awake early on Christmas Eve and head straight to the little shed that housed the geese. At this stage, there was only one plump goose left, the rest of the flock would have been sold at the Galway Market. After killing the poor goose, she proceeded to pluck the feathers. The feathers were not wasted as they were later used for stuffing pillows. The blood was collected to make pudding and the goose was then hung from a hook on the back door.
Later that day she cleaned out the innards of the goose. Nothing was wasted. The heart, liver and gizzard and neck were cooked and served up for supper. This was the last meal till after mass the next day, as we had to fast from midnight, to receive communion.
The goose was the centre piece of Christmas Day dinner, but somehow, the memory of the Christmas Eve supper reminds me of Christmas, long ago. Walter McDonagh, 24/12/2016
Remember my grandmother making lovely pudding from the blood of the turkeys we killed. The worst job was scorching the small remaining feathers after plucking. The pudding was delicious and my brother Michael made it again a few years ago. Mark Regan, 25/12/2016
What I remember of the parish hall in the early 1970s (a three storey building which stood on the site where Scoil Mhuire now is) was the eerie feeling you got when you went in the front door – probably something to do with the “millions” of cobwebs! On your right when you went in the door was the main hall where we had our Irish Dancing lessons with Celine Hession. This very large room had a stage at the top with dusty red velvet curtains. Mid way up the room on the left was a staircase to the upper floors and you had to dodge from left to right going up to avoid the holes in the wood! So much for health and safety in those days! If you continued straight down the corridor from the main entrance, there was also a back stairs to the upper floors – it was this route we used to take up to room where our Brownie meetings were held. Of course the huge car park at front was our playground, with the girls hut and the boys hut along by the wall bordering the graveyard. And the beautiful large tree at the edge of the car park. Hazel Morrison 17/1/2017
I married and came to Moycullen nearly 50 years ago. Before I came, my husband lived on his own so his home became a meeting and greeting house – people wandered in, some may be waiting for a lift home or waiting for the bus, or maybe waiting for the pub to open! or maybe just to rest their legs and have the chat and cup of tea (this was all new to me as I came from a very quiet place in Cong, Co.Mayo). At times I thought it was like living on a railway station, but I soon got to know them all, the characters and comics alike! One day I heard the front door open and footsteps heading for the back door and a voice saying “a short cut to Knockarasser”. Night time the card players came in. No need to worry about having the door locked then and no need to worry about the people who came in, as they were the salt of the earth. Sadly most of them have passed on, as has my husband, but I have my memories and all these good people and friends are what define Moycullen for me. Would I choose anywhere else…NO. Vera Morrison 7/2/2017