Belfry
Bulletin January 1953
Vol. 7 No.65
Thanks are due to Tony Johnson for the cover of the Xmas number; A very fine effort, Tony. *********************************** Thursday Meeting are now being held at St. Mary Redcliffe Community Centre, Guinea Street, Redcliffe Hill, in room 2. Thus we have returned to our old meeting place. NOTE The A.G.M. will be held in Old Market as previously announced, and NOT at Redcliffe. Dinner tickets will be available until 22nd. Jan., and if you have any resolutions for the A.G.M. you may hand them in at any time before the start of the meeting. *********************************** Les Peters has written in and requested that a page be reserved for ‘Home’ snippets of news. This is an excellent idea, Les, and I wish that I could have such a page each month, but the snag is that there would be precious little to go on it. There seems to be an almost complete absence of ‘Local’ news, due, no doubt, to the fact that very little DOES happen, and those things that may be of interest are very seldom reported to me. I am quite willing to have a bash, so come on you ‘Locals! and let me know your news items!! *****___*****__*****___*****___*****_____***** BUILDING A BELFRY by TONY JOHNSON Part 4. The following weekend it was the mixture as before, but lo, there is a difference. A 350cc Triumph leans against the hut and its owner is to be seen prowling around the ruins. Mush wrangling finally evolves a way of getting the roof on by hand. The ends of opposing sections are laid on the top of the walls with the centres held up to the correct height on poles. People on oil drums are detailed to swipe in nails as each section passes to its correct position. This causes great good fun with squashed fingers lying about the place as thick as sprats. All goes well – much too well – until the last sections are all that remains - then- Calamity. First they slide out over the walls and then when they have been fished back there seems to be a gap all round. Who said this lot of bits made a complete hut?? However, there is a genius abroad, Angus Innes du Triumph has just passed his Lower national and is raring to go. Before you can sing ‘The Barley Mow’ all the precious lifeline is roped into service and threaded loops the length and breath of the hut. Crowbars are put into loops and to the strains of such as ‘Avast ye lubbers’, they are twirled until the hut is tourniqueted in a manner that wouldn’t disgrace a District Nurse. In no time the hut pulls itself together, the windows more so, and nails are hammered home. At this, an impromptu war dance is executed in the wide open spaces until a plaintive cry disclosed Angus still holding on to the crowbars. Let go, Angus, and join in! What a silly remark!! Crash Bash! Smash! - - - - Splash!! One is through the window, and, oh well, we were going to have a chimney there anyway, but ‘tis a pity about the bar, useful pranging iron that. (The concluding part of this saga will be in next month’s issue. Ed.)