THE somnolent parish of Lynesack and Softley, of which few may hitherto have heard, comprises the west Durham village of Butterknowle and sundry hamlets thereabouts.

There is Wham, for example, and the area known colourfully as Slack Bottom.

It was in Butterknowle Village Hall last Saturday that we were invited to open the church sale of work, a happy Christmas occasion of ginger wine and treacle cake, of Postman Pat books, Heinz sponge puddings, a tumble of teddy bears and a quite sumptuous tea.

"Someone's got something for you," they'd confided - softly Softley - at the door.

They are good Northern Echo people up there, though an apologetic lady admitted to taking The Times. "If the Echo's late the paper lady comes around again," she said. "If The Times is late, I have to go and get it."

We bought all sorts, as you do when seeking an opening, but were given - loaned - the greatest treasure of all.

It is a photograph of the Bishop Auckland Girls Grammar School netball team of 1952-53 and there, seated on the left and smiling serenely, is the lovely Pat Constantine - much sought after by recent columns and by most of the young men of her generation. Whilst it may not be said that all is revealed, there is at least three inches of leg.

The boys Grammar School was across the playing field, and never the twain were to meet except for Upper Sixth science.

"Even then the girls had to sit at the back so as not to be a distraction," recalled Marjorie Cook, still in Bishop Auckland, who'd brought the something to the sale.

Pat Constantine, as was, is believed to have become a deputy head and to be living in Middlesex. A little older, maybe, but doubtless as fetching as ever.

FROM coincidence's rich seam, Mike Heaviside has also been in touch about Lynesack and Softley, and about the Gaunless Valley, with which it forms a pretty picture.

He was also in the same Slimming World class as Michael Shearing, Lynesack's comfortably constructed Vicar, and managed to lose seven stones. Mr Shearing may have lost approximately seven stones fewer.

The considerably lighter Mr Heaviside is, at any rate, working with the Gaunless Valley Trust, a group established to record the rich past of the area around Cockfield, Copley and Woodland and, down a bit, Evenwood and West Auckland.

It was built on coal, of course, not least the Butterknowle Fault, which extended across Cockfield Fell. "You just had to bring your bucket and shovel, scrape the soil away and there was coal," says Mike.

The Trust has around 1,000 old photographs which - the costs of publishing being prohibitive - he is collecting onto CDs. The first two, Cockfield Photos and Lynesack and Softley Photos are now available and readers have a chance to win them; similar compilations of Evenwood and of the story of Randolph Colliery will be available next year.

They have much written material, too - memories of the Diamond pit at Butterknowle, of the Three Horse Shoes (known universally as Harry Boy's) at Copley, and of Jossie Allen, who drank from a half gallon pitcher whilst everyone else made do with a pint pot.

Mostly, however, Butterknowle folk still talk of the murder of police sergeant Smith, stoned to death half way down Diamond Bank by youths he'd chased out of the pub. It was 1884.

"I've heard 1,000 accounts and every one of them different," says Mike, Cockfield born and bred.

They plan a photographic exhibition in Butterknowle Village Hall next August bank holiday. Perhaps they might even want an opener.

l Produced by Mike Heaviside's son, who runs Computer Basics from the family home in Cockfield, the Cockfield and Lynesack CDs cost £7.50 - £2.50 going immediately to the Trust - and are available from Mike at 2 Moor View, Cockfield, Co Durham or you can e-mail mike "This service is not compatible with this call."

Finally, Gill - officially an "Ageing Well development worker" - got through herself. "Do you know Shildon at all?" she asked.

"Slightly," we said.

The scheme, basically to encourage exercise and healthy living, steps out with a gentle half hour walk from Shildon Civic Hall at 11.30am on Tuesday December 4, followed by a buffet lunch.

All are welcome to both the walk and the lunch and quite possibly (since it's nearly Christmas) to a home town beer afterwards.

One puzzle remains. Is the message about the service not being compatible with the call the meaningless tosh that it appears to be, or is it just advancing old age?