Mid 1960s Mid 1980s

A Memory of Combpyne.

My parents David & Valerie, and younger brother Roger Angus lived at 'Rosevine' opposite the Rectory.
The then vicar, Christopher Leach lived in the Rectory with his wife and children Godfrey and Hilary. Additionally, they charitably fostered many children, having a minimum of four guests at any given time if my memory serves me correctly, hence using many of the available bedrooms.
When the vicar moved to live elsewhere, the new owner, an insidious individual called Mr. Ryan who was very fond of dogs, had the unfortunate habit of discarding his dog waste over the hedge into the road below.
Local farmer Frank Webber used to provide much sought after weekend and holiday employment by lifting potatoes and swedes/turnips for them.
It was a wonderful place to live your childhood with the multiple benefits of having a close knit local community and no major external distractions such as traffic, pollution and crime.
You truly learnt how to live in and with the countryside, being able to run free and investigate your surroundings for hours in a completely safe and healthy environment.
Despite having our own apple trees, boys would be boys, and with the company of the 'Rectory children', 'scrumping' would occur from neighbouring gardens.
I do recall having turned off the village water supply and throwing away the key one sunny afternoon, shortly to be followed by a visit fom a rather angry farmer, Guy Moore who had a farm at the bottom of the village and was attempting to milk his cows. Needless to say the key was recovered by myself and supplies restored.
Many a happy hour was spent beside the harbour, wondering at the enormity of the trout, my only regret, never having fished it.
The church was our focal point every Sunday morning, with my mother being a Sidesman and delegating either my brother or myself to undertake the collection during service. Whilst primarily bored with the proceedings, I would spend most of my time looking at the ceiling trying to count the amount of boards it was clad with.
I have many happy memories of growing up in Combpyne and can still remember the names of many village worthies and where they lived, one day it will be very worthwhile making a return visit from the N.E. of Scotland with my children who are now of the age my brother and I were at Rosevine.

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