BACK to basics, perhaps, left wing former Sunderland North MP Bob Clay now runs a business called Roots Music - selling CDs and things - from Stanhope, in Weardale.

Peter Sixsmith from Shildon sent an order in August, waited a couple of weeks and then rang to inquire what had become of it.

Mr Clay, educated at Bedford School and Cambridge University but content to be a Tyne and Wear bus driver for eight years until his election in 1983, said they hadn't received the letter. Peter duly cancelled the cheque.

Last week, Bob Clay rang him - the order had at last arrived. Though it had been posted 18 miles away, carefully and correctly addressed to "Stanhope, Bishop Auckland", its first class stamp had carried it to Auckland, New Zealand.

From the other side of the world, it was promptly and without surcharge returned whence it came. "How wonderful," observes Peter brusquely, "that the New Zealand authorities have rather more knowledge of the location of Stanhope than their colleagues in south-west Durham."

WE all make mistakes, of course, even the dear old Darlington & Stockton Times. Thus were we informed that last Saturday at St Peter's church, Brafferton - alongside the River Swale, west of Easingwold - a large choir was to perform Thomas Tallis's masterwork Sperm in Allum.

Tallis was a 16th century composer and organist, who wrote his best known piece in 40 parts.

At that time, however, it went by the Latin title Spem in Alium, meaning "Faith in Another Person". The error may be considered seminal.

Then, from the ever vigilant Janet Murrell in Durham, comes this property ad for a four bedroomed house in West Kyo, near Stanley - well presented, enclosed gardens, and in a "thoughtafter area".

Janet's in with a bid immediately. "After the Naked Chef, the lisping estate agent?"

ERNEST Pannell, a late and distinguished D&S Times editor, was a "hostilities only" naval rating during the Second World War. Gill Wootten, his daughter, has been in touch following last week's note on dripping.

We have also been asked by a fat of the land company in Richmond where they can buy the stuff. "It's the perfect Christmas present for our clients," they insist.

Ernest Pannell, at any rate, was waiting for a ship to be commissioned in the US and was entertained by accommodating locals in, Gill thinks, New England.

"Adopted" by a local family, Ernest and a fellow matelot had seen off a joint of beef - "of a size enough to stun anyone accustomed to wartime rations" - but asked their hostess to refrain from pouring the dripping into the trash can.

When they subsequently spread it on bread and ate it, the lady of the house was unable to stomach the sight and was obliged to leave the room.

Ernest Pannell, eminent editor, remained a bread and dripping man for the remainder of his life.

BACK to the world of Westminster and to Derek Foster, for 23 years the assiduous MP for Bishop Auckland and among Britain's best known Salvation Army members.

Though MPs get free first class rail travel to and from their constituencies, it should not be assumed that it is all cheer and vittles.

On Monday morning, following the weekend storms, Derek's coach was without heating for the duration.

"It was so cold I was obliged to go the restaurant car for breakfast, even though I'd had one already," he complains.

ASSUMING the answer to lie amid the arcane world of horse racing, last week's column wondered - via Ian Forsyth in Durham - if Good Friday really had fallen on Boxing Day.

"I know it's world conker time, but I was surprised to see that old horse chestnut going the rounds," protests Tom Purvis in Sunderland

Irene Forster in Darlington insists, nonetheless, that it happened at Wolverhampton in 1899; Ian Cross reckons that - in similar circumstances - Christmas Day once fell on Boxing Day; Martin Birtle in Billingham believes that Good Friday fell on a Saturday, in the 1927 Grand National.

The Racing Post website lists a more recent Good Friday. Active from June 1999 to May 2001, it once unseated its rider and once finished second in 17 outings, but never ran over jumps or in the winter.

Among a substantial stable of horses called Christmas Something-or-other - Christmas Bonus, Christmas Cactus, even an Irish trained horse called Christmas Truce - Christmas Day entered 11 northern flat races between June 2000 and August 2001, never managed better than fifth out of nine and may by now have been fed to the turkeys.

Tom Purvis, incidentally, also asks when St Leger Day was also Ebor day - in 1817, apparently, when a horse called Ebor won the Leger.

LAST week's column also sought to help Peter Sotheran in Redcar with a personal problem: he couldn't find good, old fashioned string vests.

Sylvia Kelly not only buys her old feller's singlets from John Lewis, formerly Bainbridge's in Newcastle, but kindly sends the wrapper - aero-cellular knit, protects against colds and rheumatism, worn by the British Himalayan Expedition and by the 1960 Norwegian Olympic team.

Strings inevitably attached, the best with the holes costs £11.50. Sylvia's in Brandon. "They do not," she concedes, "come cheap."

...and finally back where we began, to Basic's. Months ago now, the column wondered how Basic Cottages in Coxhoe, near Durham, came by their unprepossessing name. We finally have the answer from Ron Taylor in Sedgefield.

What familiarly became Steetley Quarry was originally owned by the Yorkshire Basic Company, sold to Steetley in 1906 and eventually becoming the Steetley Lime and Basic Company.

Ron worked there for 47 years, his father for 43 and his grandfather for 25 before a gala day following closure in September 1981 saw the chimney blown up and a lot of money raised for Coxhoe Village Hall.

Basic Cottages, says Ron, were built for key workers from Nottinghamshire. Whatever the muck and money name, they were top of the market, after all.

It's proof, of course, that everything comes to he who waits - but those awaiting another Gadfly column must come back in a fortnight.