Netherby

The house that the sun shines out of.

Netherby was a lovely little stone built cottage with two bedrooms off a nice long hallway, a large living room, kitchen and bathroom. Originally when the house had been built there was no kitchen or bathroom and that addition had been added on in later years. The prospect of a kitchen and bathroom delighted mum. The kitchen had a large pantry and for years we did not have a fridge as the pantry was indeed very cold. There were two sinks, one of which was very deep. Mum loved this for her washing and with a wringer set up between them she was in seventh heaven. As there  was no heat in the bathroom when we were young so as children we would have our bath and run through to the warmth of the coal fire in the living room to get our pajamas on and dry our hair. I did not like getting my long hair combed as mum would always say, “Stand still until I get these tugs out.”
Mum and dads room was really very large for a Scottish home and it had a lovely outlook onto the garden. Dad planted climbing roses outside the windows and in the summer when the windows were opened the scent of the small pink roses wafted into the room. The stone walls were very thick but had no insulation therefore there were wooden shutters built into the wall at each side of the window. In the winter the wooden shutters were closed over the windows to keep the draughts out. Also in the room was a large enclosed coal fire – probably because the room was so large and cold that you needed it on winter nights. Ray and I had the smaller bedroom which was called “the wee bedroom” as opposed to the “big bedroom” that mum and dad had! Our room had two single iron beds and dad made and painted headboards on which he attached transfers of nursery rhymes. They were actually surplus hospital beds from the war and had been used as extra beds for the influx of soldiers. We had a large book case and two small wardrobes with shelves. These were also painted a pale blue (mum really liked blue) and had transfers on them. These two pieces of furniture are part of stories to be told later! The window in our bedroom looked out to the back of the house and to the right was a small coal fireplace in the corner. If we were sick or it was really cold dad would light a fire. There was a small toy box which dad had padded and covered the top with a green vinyl cloth. He would sit there by the glow of the fire and tell us stories. Daddy used to say that the Brothers Grimm stories were too grim so he often made up stories. They were the best! The last part of the house were two small stone sheds built on to the back of the house. One was a coal shed and the other served as place to keep the lawnmower and gardening tools. Dad loved the garden and the rustic fencing. There were not many flowers in the garden when we arrived and had mostly gooseberry bushes but dad changed all that. When we first went to Netherby there was a little hen house and a run for the hens. A few years later the hen house became our playhouse and dad reclaimed the run for flower beds. Daddy planted an apple tree on each side of this flower bed – one for Heather and one for Ray. In the Spring the ground around them was ablaze with color, blue grape hyacinths yellow daffodils and multi colored tulips.

 Having moved from Dundee to Netherby Newbigging was quite a contrast from living in Dundee. Whereas in Dundee we were close to relatives and just a walk to downtown shopping now it was four buses a day and one shop. Aunt Jean missed mum and would often catch the bus and come to visit on a Sunday. During the week dad would catch the 8-20am bus for work in Dundee but not get home until 6-20pm – remember there were only four buses a day. The family would take the bus down to Monifieth in the summer and enjoy beach days with our cousin Betty and Aunt Jean but in Scotland the days to sit on the beach were not very often! Our cousin Betty would also love to visit Netherby and play in the garden. Back then was when daddy planted cypress trees to line the path and in years to come they would grow as tall as the telegraph wires.I remember looking out the living room window on Christmas morning and watch the “postie” walk down that long path. Yes, they worked on Christmas day in Scotland – until it became a holiday in 1958. It would inevitably be a present – at the last minute – from Aunt Grace, dad’s sister in London. Christmas was always wonderful at Netherby because just as dad wrote of the “Clan ” coming down on that Christmas Day years before they still did. Aunt Jean, Uncle Jimmy and cousin Betty also Granddad Anderson and Uncle Tom who was now home from the Merchant Navy. I think they all visited because it was something to do with how mum always made people feel – loved. Christmas and Easter were two occasions that the white damask tablecloth was used. Crisply starched and beautifully ironed it was a perfect covering to display a table set with flowers and Christmas crackers and food to to suit everyone. Mums trifle and mincemeat pies were so good. If I close my eyes I can smell Christmas baking and hear her singing Christmas carols. After lunch we would play games and then later in the afternoon have turkey sandwiches and be allowed to open our selection boxes filled with chocolate treats. Mum would either get a box of Quality Street or Terry’s All Gold chocolates and her favorite sherry – Harveys Bristol Cream. Just time for a cup of tea and a ‘wee dram’ or “wee sherry” before the visitors caught the bus home to Dundee. Mum’s youngest sister Rettie did not celebrate with us at Christmas because her husband Eddie did not believe “in that stuff.” They had a little girl called Corinne and they would come visit in the summer and enjoy the garden.  Rettie emigrated to New Zealand with her husband Eddie Reid and their daughter Corinne in 1955. Eddie was an electrician and he stared his own electrical business in Hamilton, NZ.  Netherby was becoming a popular place – everyone was welcome.

I was loving my time in Newbigging with a farm next door and places to safely explore. Dad would take us for walks to the Carlungiie Earth Houses about 2 miles away down hedge lined farm lanes.The Earth Houses date to the late Iron Age, from the 1st to 2nd centuries AD. They are one of Scotland’s longest and most complex souterrains, probably used to store food. Although there was an abundance of things to do and many friends my sister Ray was missing Granny Anderson and so mum would on occasions at the weekend put her on the bus to Dundee – a 30 min. bus ride and granddad would meet her at the bus station. Sometime she would go for the day or even stay overnight for a special treat. Mum loved Netherby and also enjoyed gardening. She became very friendly with Mrs. Sanderson – the farmers wife. Mr. and Mrs. Sanderson had three girls and a boy all about 10 or 15 years older than Ray and I. I would be sent over to the farm to buy some eggs but used to be terrified if I saw the turkeys coming towards me as the older boys from the village said that they would peck my eyes out – nice! Even at an early age I was kidded about my red hair “Did you eat too many carrots?” ” Were you left out in the rain and did you go rusty?” I was not a meek mannered child and the boys soon knew not to tease me otherwise they would get a swift whack on the head! Mum missed her church in Dundee and although there was an Episcopal Church in Monifieth it was a “low Episcopal church” – I interpreted that as having no incense and no bells at communion, but she said it was much more than that. However, once we had a car and I was old enough to keep awake we always attended midnight mass at Holy Trinity in Monifieth. I can remember walking along Monifieth High St. after church to see the Christmas tree and the lit up figures of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Once we got home it was lovely to walk down the long path and see the Christmas Tree in the window all lit up and welcoming us home. We were allowed a non alcoholic Blackcurrant cordial in a little liqueur glass. Mum had an advocaat and lemonade and dad had a whisky . We all had some short bread and went off to bed to await Christmas morning. I remember us going to a wedding with friends of dad but I really remember our mum’s snakeskin shoes with platform soles. They would be back in fashion now. I was in the brownies and Ray was in the girl guides. The guides were a guard of honor for the Guide leader and Ray is seen on the right next to the flag bearer.

 Looking back now I realize what a great childhood I had but also what my poor parents had to put up with. As I had previously mentioned at the beginning of my writing “These two pieces of furniture are part of stories to be told later!” The first story took place during the summer of probably 1955 when I was seven. The garden was flourishing by now and the herbaceous border on the right as you walked down the path was a blaze of color. The flowers were planted in ascending order from pink dianthus and blue catnip, columbine, stock and delphiniums. One day I saw how many bumble bees were busy gathering pollen from the catnip and I decided that I would try to see how many bees I could get in a jam jar at one time. I punched some holes in the lid and went about my experiment. About six bees later I was called inside for lunch. Now what to do with the bees? I did not want to leave them in the sun so I put them in my wardrobe on the shelf meaning to let them out or attempt to catch more later. Well I forgot. The next day mum was putting away some clothes that she had ironed into the aforementioned wardrobe. The jar fell out, the lid came off, the very angry bees were flying around crazy and I heard her screaming, H E A T H E R!!!!! Luckily no one was stung as we opened the front door and window and managed to get them out waving towels in the right direction. That was the end of that experiment – never to be tried again.
Dad worked as a buyer in Dundee and every Christmas he would receive drink, food hampers or cigars from his clients as Christmas gifts. I would always ask for the empty cigar boxes which I used to store all sorts of things. They were kept on my shelf in the large bookcase in our room. My shelf had many collections of every conceivable articles on it. Rays shelves were full of books. While I was out collecting bees and getting into mischief she would be away in another world with her head in a book.
The next story is pertaining to the bookcase. One day I was again in the garden and under the large bush at the foot of the garden I found a dead blue tit. It lay there lifeless with its yellow breast and blue and green feathers on its wings and head making a striking contrast against the dark brown earth. I decided that I would put it in one of my cigar boxes, dig a hole and bury it. For some reason I carried the bird into the house to get the box instead of bringing the box outside. I placed the bird in the box but then I think my friend came over to play and the box was put on the shelf with the bird inside. About a week later mum said ‘There is a funny smell in this room. Have you been over at the farm Heather? Check your shoes.” All clear but mum told us to clean the room. The smell of Pledge floor polish dissipated the smell somewhat. The next day was Sunday and Aunt Jean came to visit. Mum took her into the room and Aunt Jean immediately went sniffing around. “It is coming from the bookcase” “What is in all those cigar boxes?” They found the decaying bird. H E A T H E R !!!!

Before I attended Grove Academy my sister and I went to Newbigging Primary school. This school was just across the street and we could leave the house as late as 8:55 am to be in time for the bell ringing at 9am for the start of school. There were three rooms and three teachers. Two were sisters, Miss Henderson and Miss Henderson who lived in one of the council houses in School Road. This was the only other street in Newbigging apart from the main street. Mr. McIntosh was the headmaster and a wonderful teacher who lived in the large stone built schoolhouse adjoining the school. I remember once when my sister Ray was sick he came over and brought her lessons and helped with her homework. He also taught Primary six some French and Algerbra to give them a head start in preparation for High School. Although we could come home for lunch I preferred to stay and have lunch with my friends. The food was delivered in large aluminum containers with lids that clipped on the top. I still remember the mince, potatoes and peas followed by apple crumble with custard. That was just one of our many hot meals – no pizza or hot dogs!! Newbigging was made up of houses that were privately owned, some that belonged to the local farms and also council houses which mostly housed the families of workers from the local stone quarry. The pupils came from these homes and from the farms surrounding Newbigging. It was here that I became really good friends with Eveyln Longmuir and Doris Bruce. Evelyn lived in the village and after Newbigging primary school she went on to Monifieth school. Doris lived at Omachie farm where her dad worked and attended Grove Academy in Broughty Ferry with me. My sister Ray passed her 11 plus exam, as they called it back then,  which qualified her to  go to Grove Academy but all her friends were going to Monifieth so she chose to go there. I always thought that if she had gone to Grove Academy that she could have gone on and become a History teacher. This was a hard time for Ray because about that time Granny Anderson died but I think what helped her over that was her love of reading. Ray would sit for hours with a book. She still to this day can tell you the dates of all the famous battles the lineage of kings and queens and all sorts of historical facts. While I was still at school she graduated from school and went to work in the cosmetic department of a very nice store in Dundee called Draffens. High school for me was relatively enjoyable but I did not like studying and usually just did enough to get by. One of my friends at Grove  Academy was Maureen Grieve and years later we reconnected and have stayed in touch ever since. I hated French but loved Botany and Zoology which I excelled in. School holidays we would go “berry picking” at the local farms to earn some money. Nowadays children do not want to work and the farms now bring in temporary workers from Eastern Europe. My friends would also go “tattie picking” in the Autumn but it was backbreaking work and when I tried it I only lasted three days!! Still loved the berry picking and there is nothing like fresh Scottish raspberries in your morning corn flakes.

Netherby definitely changed over the years, from a plain dark stone cottage to a bright attractive home and a more tailored easier kept garden as the family grew up. The apple trees were fully grown and bearing much fruit. That was how it was with Netherby the fruits of all the love and labour extended to it showed both inside and outside. It was for years to become be a place that all wanted to return to from across the street and from far off lands. As a friend of my sister said, “Most people build houses so the sun shines in, but Netherby is a house the sun shines out of.”