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New Street


Hjdary

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I've been to a call today on New Street in High Green.

I've called there quite a few times in the past and never took much notice of it but what a street!!

Almost all of the houses have the original carved window sills intact and there are still a good number of big old chimney pots....

Round the back there are still one or two of the old "netties" (not sure what you call them down here!!) with the coal houses built on to them.

Inside the house I was working in the owner still had the old round pin plug sockets and carpet rods to hold the stairs carpet up...it was ace!

On the outside was the old rusty hook to hang your washing line on.

This place should have a preservation order slapped on it straight away.

It reminds me a lot of the old pit village in Durham where I come from. The village was filled with streets like this but now, sadly they are all gone.

Most of the character of the village was lost in the late seventies/ early eighties when the local council was giving grants out to add kitchen extensions and bathrooms on the back of the houses. Consequently all the old netties disappeared and were replace with flat roofed monstrosities with bricks that didn't blend in with the rest of the house, which all look terrible.

It was great, toady to see a street which is almost un-molested.

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I've been to a call today on New Street in High Green.

I've called there quite a few times in the past and never took much notice of it but what a street!!

Almost all of the houses have the original carved window sills intact and there are still a good number of big old chimney pots....

Round the back there are still one or two of the old "netties" (not sure what you call them down here!!) with the coal houses built on to them.

Inside the house I was working in the owner still had the old round pin plug sockets and carpet rods to hold the stairs carpet up...it was ace!

On the outside was the old rusty hook to hang your washing line on.

This place should have a preservation order slapped on it straight away.

It reminds me a lot of the old pit village in Durham where I come from. The village was filled with streets like this but now, sadly they are all gone.

Most of the character of the village was lost in the late seventies/ early eighties when the local council was giving grants out to add kitchen extensions and bathrooms on the back of the houses. Consequently all the old netties disappeared and were replace with flat roofed monstrosities with bricks that didn't blend in with the rest of the house, which all look terrible.

It was great, toady to see a street which is almost un-molested.

i lived at number 2 New St until 1995 then moved into Burncross, my hubby and his dad did a lot of renovations inside. Next door at number 4 lived Nicola and Paul Myles who to this day are still our best friends. In fact my hubby is in partnership with Paul and they own Chapeltown Glass. At number 6 lived Mac and Sylvia.

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Round the back there are still one or two of the old "netties" (not sure what you call them down here!!) with the coal houses built on to them.

Round our way they were referred to as t'outside bog but we were posh!

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As you went out of our old back door, you saw in front of you, two blue doors.

The one on the left lead in to the coal house and the one on the right was the nettie.

Now then..cast you mind back to the late seventies.........

In Durham at that time there was a fashion craze doing the rounds...white jeans. In Sunderland a shop called "Geordie Jeans" had just opened and was the coolest place on planet Wearside. Anyone who was anyone was wearing white denim jeans from that shop.

My Dad was, just like most other Dads at that time, to be found on a sunday in the club....with his mates drinking them selves daft..all wearing said trousers.

So at about two-ish my Dad rolls home with a mate or two in tow and my Mam has some dinner ready for them.

After the food has gone and another bottle or two of brown ale is emptied, without fail, one of my Dads mates would ask to use the nettie and as sure as night follows day Dad would always say the same thing..

"Eye Marra, Door on the left"

Then we'd sit and wait...this was the exciting bit.

We'd hear the back door go then the door on the left open the a funny shout would be heard from the unfortunate denim clad soul as he fell in to a pile of coal!!!

After a few minuets in would walk the victim to find us all in tears laughing and the laughing only got louder when we saw his black, white jeans.

Oh how I miss that coal house.

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