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The first tower was the light six at Keresley, where the ringers have to negotiate stairs, balcony and the organ casework to get to the belfry. These small but pleasant bells were rung to a variety of methods on a rota system whilst the multitude remained in the church. Hilarity was caused when one member allowed his balls to drop from the balcony – perhaps the more hungover of the group or serious members were not amused. It was then noted that the church had space for a playgroup, a praise band and used a “song book” and overhead projector – so what could be more appropriate…
An impromptu piano recital took place with myself and Robin playing with each other for the first time in 10 years. From Carmen to the Water Music – the masses seemed pleased with the performance on the piano that was to music what Pudsey is to 8 spliced…
On to the next tower, the 8 at Allesley, the band squashed into the belfry under the watchful eye of Phil. A selection of good ringing, from Stedman triples to 3 spliced major took place. Members were treated to the best handstrokes to come from Mme Queenley in years, sadly on closer examination this was put down to the fact he had employed a stunt double for that part of the raise…
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Graham ably called some call changes, moving the bells into Kings before I kindly corrected his choice of sexual statement – and a few changes later Queens was quickly obtained! If only all queens were so easy to get hold of…
So, over the road we went for lunch, although there was a forward party tempted by the smell of booze as I believe blood was starting to infect their alcohol streams… Many of us lined up waiting to cross the road and in a true “spot the straight guy” moment, the mascot ran across the road at the first “manly” opportunity – we then crossed hand in hand when it was very safe to do so… It was interesting to note two things on entry to the pub; firstly the sign outside “Live Football” and secondly the very impressive cock mounted on the sign of the rainbow – how apt ?!
The group sat down for a wholesome lunch and were entertained by each others company, a pensive pussy, and the wonderment of whether one of the waiters was one of us!?! Those that could, stroked the moggy as it made its way round the tables – and some people call me a tart!!
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