It's late Friday night and I'm not making much sense

 

I've been ringing the tenor (bell) tonight at home tower practise.* Our tenor is over three-quarters of a ton, and I keep remembering this as I'm ringing it.  It's a very nice bell—I don't know this because it's the only big bell I have ever rung**, or anyway am likely to be expected to ring regularly, but I assume that the, ahem, big end has to be fairly cooperative or us flimsy little humans wouldn't be able to ring them at all.  Clearly ringing is not about brute strength but you do have to be able to make your tweaks on the rope count, and the bigger the bell the cleverer you need to be about this.  But if the bell just said 'go away and don't bother me' there isn't a lot you could do about it.***   What always staggers [sic] me when I'm ringing our five-sixths-of-a-ton tenor is the thought that good ringers—Colin, say, or Edward—can as it's called 'turn it in', which means ring it as an active part of the method rather than just bonging behind.†  I find this flatly un . . . un . . . un . . . can't get my head around it.  I want to say 'impossible' but it isn't impossible, I've been there and heard them do it.  I can barely ring continuous last.  The idea of course is that tenor-behind grounds and stabilises the method—provides a corral from which the mustangs can't escape. ††  But in practise you're having to make tiny adjustments, both because the inertia that's ringing the bell for you isn't perfect, and your hands on the rope making suggestions about when to come down and when to go up aren't perfect—and the other ringers you're ringing behind aren't perfect either.  So you do have to be able to move it around a little even if you're ringing tenor-behind.  And I find that it takes about three blows (bongs) before whatever I think I've done has any effect . . . usually the wrong one . . . and then it takes another three blows to readjust.  If you're ringing in the method you have to change your place in the row with pretty much every stroke.  When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth, right?  Okay.  Ringing the tenor 'inside'?  Magic powers.  It's the only answer.†††

            Meanwhile . . . I told you about my great idea for monthly practise quarter (peals)?  I have to stop having great ideas.  Or have them around less experienced manoeuvrers.  I now seem to be not merely ringing but organising two quarters in the next fortnight.  This was not the plan. 

            So I came home and wept‡ into my knitting bag.  Look, look!  There's two of them! 

I even remembered how to cast off. I think.

Only seventy-eight or so more and I'll have a hellhound blanket!  At the rate of two squares a week I'll . . . have most of a blanket by the end of the year.  Whimper.  ‡‡

And yes, flushed with the victory of casting off, I immediately cast on the beginning of a new square. Nervously.

* * *

Have any of you seen or read/heard about this manifestation of utter pigfuggery, as tweeted by Publishers Weekly: 

UK children's authors angered over Martin Amis's comment on BBC that only a brain injury could make him write for kids http://bit.ly/emuAMo

Martin Amis has always been an asshole.  It's his shtick.  I don't doubt his writing ability,‡‡‡ but his personality should have been excised at birth and replaced with something more attractive like a wet flounder or a handful of weevils.  I'm sure a competent surgeon could have retained the storytelling during the transfer.  He also so blatantly belongs to the 'all publicity is good publicity' school of thought that I've been hesitating to add even my meagre little flare of public dislike.  But this is such a plug-ugly ignorant jackwad remark, and as a YA/crossover writer myself I'm extremely familiar with remarks like it.  But as it happens I don't have to hang around in his or its company for any longer than it takes me to copy and paste this link from Lucy Coats:

In Which I Defend Children's Books Against A Literary Twit http://bit.ly/dOHswO

Except that I do wish to add it's not only UK writers, of children's books or otherwise.

 * * *

Now, however, to take the disagreeable taste of the foregoing out of your mouths, and thank you EMoon, who tweeted:  Free-roaming wind-powered kinetic sculpture: http://www.wimp.com/kineticsculpture/

Amazing.  Totally amazing.  Absolutely watch this one.

* * *

* Couldn't get any sense out of Oisin this afternoon at all.  He's busy building coral reefs in . . . rather astonishing colours.  Good All-Stars colours.   Pity. . . .

** Hmm.  As I think about it that's not true, or anyway it depends on what you mean by 'big'.  Both South Desuetude and Glaciation have tenors that are over half a ton, which is big to me.  And in my previous pre-ME incarnation as a beginning bell ringer at East Persnickety I rang the tenor a couple of times, and it's only off about a handful of raisins being a whole ton.  Although in terms of ringing I'm not sure it counts, because there was a bloke at my elbow ready to perform a blokey takeover if I showed signs of having the vapours or anything.  Niall sticks me on our tenor and then pointedly ignores me.  He thinks it would be good for me to ring our tenor.  It would be good if I could stop thinking about the more-than-three-quarters-of-a-ton.  But our tenor is the nicest of the three I'm presently acquainted with.  South Desuetude's tenor doesn't actually feel that heavy per se, but it does take some yanking to keep it up there.

And just by the way, I find this ad, which pops up on Google while you're checking bell weights, hilarious:

Church Tower Bells

Large Choice of Church Tower Bells

Find the Lowest Prices. Shop Now.

shopzilla.co.uk

*** It's like that horses are mostly willing to do what we ask, if we ask politely.  Half a ton of critter and it says, canter?  Oh, okay, which lead would you like?  Why are horses so nice?  

† Niall can do it but finds it a—ahem—stretch, and Vicky has done it but would rather not.

†† Speaking of horses.

††† If we could get Mel ringing the tenor to bob major at New Arcadia, we'd find out if he's a sorcerer or not.^

^ Who says I have trouble defining reality?

‡ We're talking tears of frustration here.  What I specifically did not want is to ring a service quarter on a Sunday evening.  Guess what I'm doing next Sunday evening.  And to add insult to injury I'm organising it. 

‡‡ Do you suppose if I laid on a little candlelight and champagne they'd breed? 

‡‡‡ Yes, I have read some of his stuff.  Sharp and nasty.  I have better things to do with my time.