You are here:
Tulliemet
Tulliemet maps
Historic maps of Tulliemet and the local area, hand-drawn by Ordnance Survey and Samuel Lewis. View all Tulliemet maps
Tulliemet photos
We have no photos of Tulliemet, although we do have photos of these nearby places:
Tulliemet area books
Displaying 1 of 0 books about Tulliemet and the local area. View all books for this area
You can read extracts and browse photos from these books.
Memories of Tulliemet
No memories of Tulliemet have been shared yet - be the first!
Add your memory of Tulliemet
or of a photo of Tulliemet.
Perthshire memories
Where my Old Folks Settled
My people were tinkers of the road. Power, Riley, Macarthur, O'Connor, Macallister and a few I have no knowledge of. Generations had mended tin, woven baskets, bunched broom and heather, one to sweep the floor the other to scour pots. In 1847 some left Ireland during the famine, with a vast knowledge of forestry and horses. They met and married with Perthshire and Argyllshire tinkers. Black Spout woods (Edradour) in Pitlochry offered everything they needed to winter settle - a steady supply of fresh water from the burn, firewood for cooking and warmth but most important this place was no man's land. There were no neighbours. The sanctified earth of this wooded area was a blessed Pictish burial ground. Tinkers all over Ireland and Scotland returned annually from their summer wandering to places like this; Weem near Aberfeldy, Fortingall, Dull, Fearnam, Comrie, Muthill and Crieff were a few spots where no hand to touch them. So it was no surprise that my lineage gathered at the Black Spout which... Read more
Evacuation
I was 6 years old in 1941 and a native of Glasgow. During the worst of the German bombing at that time, my mother, brother and I moved to Auchnahyle Farm, which was farmed by my father's uncle and aunts, Bob, Mag and Jess Jamieson. My father remained in Glasgow as he was in a reserved occupation.
I went to Pitlochry Primary School and made friends. We wandered the Black Spout woods together and fished the burns for trout. We clambered over the ruins of the Black Castle. At that time they were much more substantial than they are now.
After some months we returned to Glasgow. I missed the country life. Despite being a city boy my love was for the countryside. I have now lived in south Perthshire for more than 30 years, so the dreams of that six year old boy have come to pass.
Rob
How Sweet it Was
“I’ll have a very large J&B on the rocks,” the distinguished gentleman gave me his order. “And easy on the rocks,” he added. I hurried off to the bar and returned with the glass of Scotch. Dana Andrews looked up and smiled. “You’re new around here, aren’t you?” he said.
“What’s your name?”
“Alastair,” I replied.
“Do I detect a Scottish accent?”
“You do sir,” I replied. “I’m from Perthshire.”
He sprang to his feet, pulled the tweed jacket from his shoulders and extended the inverted collar across the table toward me. “Look at this” he said, “I bought it 24 years ago and it’s as good as new.” In the flickering candlelight of the restaurant, I peered at the label. It read: “Fraser’s of Perth” and instantly I felt that glow of patriotic pride, familiar to exiled Scots. It’s a long road from the purple mountains of Scotland to California, but in 1966, that’s where I found myself — alone and feeling a wee... Read more
The Birks Cinema
I can't believe nobody has posted a memory from Aberfeldy. I'm over in Victoria, BC now but who can forget during the war, the stern Mrs. Walker and her husband "policing," the Birks Cinema on a Saturday night when all we "country folk," invaded Aberfeldy. I can still see her at the interval with an ice cream tray strapped around her waist standing under the screen. She was one tough lady, and ran the theater with a firm hand. I see online they are trying to revive the old picture house. I wish them well.
Oh one more memory: we were evacuated to Loch Tayside during the war from Glasgow and my younger brother Iain was born at the Cottage Hospital there. I nearly forgot, when I was five, I attended Breadalbane Academy and remember falling madly in love with a blonde wee lassie, Fiona Gowens, whose parents owned the Palace Hotel. She and I were five and played the Triangle together in music... Read more
My First Fond Memory
I would like to say my first memories of Waterloo was we lived in one of my grandmother's houses, it was called as I remember The Big White House. It was a very large house, I think it actually had 2 houses as we lived in the bottom house and my auntie and uncle lived in the top house, anyway there was plenty of space to play in as it had quite a large area of land with it. I lived there with my mother Jane, dad John (Jeck ) Stewart and my sister Catriona (Pansy) and my sister Martha (Biggy) and me Jane (Peppy). We loved the wide variety of open space to play and roam about, up the back of the house there was a field and we used to cross the field and go to the woods which was called Gelly Woods, there we would go and play and get tadpoles. Down the road from the house towards Bankfoot there was a big green field where... Read more
Memories
As a boy i would wander
through fields and in water,
go fishing, make swings
was happy with things:
Would roam with the dog
slip on Algae green log,
smell rain on the grass
polish Grans brass:
Climb dykes, collect conkers
leap Cargills, I was bonkers,
make carties with prams
watch Salmon jump Dams:
I summer pick berries
six weeks in black wellies,
up dreels of soft fruit
to give your mum loot:
In autumn lift Tatties
no chance of being fatties,
with your back bent all day
just want home i would prey:
These days have sped by
where's time gone I sigh!
From Rattray to Blair
a town i recognise nae mare:
Ballintium Farm, Tullymeg, Ballinluig
I went to school at Guay Primary School - 1948. Teacher Miss Coombes. In my class were John Macdonald of Raer Lodge, my brother Iain Stanton of Ballintuim Farm, cousins Helen, Sheila, Muriel Findlay of Ballintuim Cottage. Picked spuds in a freezing October. Ferrcin hans sair back, big snows start in late October. I remember taking wee John Macdonals home every night up the the Raer Lodge. Got ma tomato soup - nae toast. Coming back in the dark following our uphill footsteps through the snow to Ballintuim Farm and seeing the lights doon beside the Tay. Nobody ever knew I was away. Norrie Stanton.
