Back to where it all began 29 years ago… almost to the day

C and I were asked to help #bellrinigng for a wedding at a church that currently doesn’t have a band of ringers. It’s been a while since we’ve rung there partly because of the pandemic and partly because there is no band or regular practice to support.

It seemed like it was going to be a very posh affair.  We had told the vicar how much we would expect to get paid and he added a bit extra on and said that he didn’t think it would be a problem at all.  When we arrived at the church there were guests gathering in morning suits and ladies in their posh frocks, high heels and hats.  Apparently, the reception was being held in a marquee in someone’s garden, so presumable a rather large garden attached to a rather large house, and therefore money not a problem.  The church was over garnished.  There were flower arrangements at the end of every pew, huge greenery constructions and even whole trees brought in in pots.  All seemed at bit over the top, but what do I know.

We, and the other ringers, went upstairs to do our bit.  We rang before and after the service.  During the service, there wasn’t really anywhere to go and too many steps to bother going all the way down and back up again, so we all sat in the ringing room chatting. 

We reminisced about when everyone last rang there, and when the clock mechanism was brought upstairs, and who used to ring there in days gone by.

I occurred to me that C and I got together from ringing at this church when they had a newish band and several of us from elsewhere used to go over and support their practice on a Friday evening. At first, I used to get picked up in town by another ringer and after a few weeks we all concluded that I lived nearer to C, so he agreed to drop me off home after the pub. 

After a few weeks of this I invited him in for a coffee.  A few weeks after that we decided to get something to eat on the way home and stopped off at a Chinese for a meal, where I saw one of my work managers at that time.  Then in the July I invited him in for coffee, we chatted, we chatted and before you knew it it was 4am.  We went for a walk around the block to freshen ourselves up, then at 6am after lots more chat, he left as he had to get home, finish packing, then head to Worcestershire for a ringing holiday.  Before he left, we had our first smooch. 

He rang me every night whilst on the ringing holiday and sent me a postcard every day.  He also bought me a present from every day of the trip, so when he got home, I had a lot of silly little things as gifts. 

That was 29 years ago. High Easter has a lot to answer for but thank you.