Season's Greetings!

Blessings and glad tidings to all the residents of Pranker's Wycke. This year Father Ruckable and Sister Foundly will be joined by Vicar Dirgin and Rector Fuelgood from Tumonme City. At 11am they will lead a Christmas Day Service from Mitzmaid Cloister. All are welcome.

Notices #3

Deaths

Victor Lagina, aged 57, passed away at home on Friday 30th November 2007, having spent the evening with friends at the Sleeping Wit. Tongue and groove master craftsman, keen woodsman and cunning linguist, Victor made a significant contribution to village life in Pranker's Wycke since arriving from Palermo in 1967. Dearly loved by many, he will be much missed by Joan Mentley, with whom he shared a deeply rooted friendship for over 30 years. Father Ruckable will lead a memorial service to be held at 1.30pm on Tuesday 11th December at Mitzmaid Cloister.

They promised us it was over; Frank Winnetically is ringing again

The Pranker's Wycke Ringers met yesterday evening for our first practice session of the year. We are extremely grateful to Sister Foundly who gave us Frock Cottage for the night. It was especially pleasing to have a couple of campanological 'virgins' amongst the old hands, and I know the excitement on their faces brought memories of my first pick-up flooding back. We were also delighted to welcome back Frank Winnetically after his time away from us. I know I speak for all the ringers when I say that without his energetic and skillful direction, we found co-ordinating anything more than a two-in-hand quite impossible: Frank you certainly left a hole that no other man could fill.

After the introductions and a gentle warm-up, we got straight down to business. Frank's pick-up was as polished as ever, and his ring had lost none of the warmth that won him such acclaim in last year's exhibition at Mitzmaid Cloister. At first the new-comers were rather shy and tentative, poor technique quickly tiring their wrists. However, after a short break for tea, we were all back at it. Frank explained how, for a "normal" ring it is important to move the bell about six inches out and away from the body (in a motion parallel with the floor), keeping the bell slightly tilted so the clapper rests against the back side of the casting. An abrupt stop should follow, and the inertia of the clapper does the rest.

We then spent a delightful hour "getting to know each other", with some simple change ringing. This gave our novices the chance to adjust their backstroke and hand-strokes to our tempo. The always eager Job Nockey gave us the highlight of the evening when a combination of sweaty palms on wood and a particularly vigorous hand-stroke resulted in him losing his grip altogether. His instrument sailed over our heads and landed, bell-end first, on the supper tray that was at that very moment being brought into the parlour by Paul's wife, Peggy Smeenis. Peggy had brought along one of her home made cheeses which she'd been carefully ripening for the occasion, and this took the brunt of the impact, spraying her face with sticky globules. There wasn't a dry eye in the house as Job, purple-headed with embarrassment, tugged the bell free and attempted to scrape as much cheese from around his rim as possible.

After that, all we were fit for was to round off the evening with a gentle travelling two-in-hand. We are already looking forward to our next session when Frank has promised to teach us his famous knuckle grip.

If anyone is interested in joining the Pranker's Wycke Ringers, please contact Donna Tugick.

Sister Foundly's Inner Piece #2

Dear Parishioners,

How it touched me inside to receive your input, in response to last week’s sad story of internet pornography.

Many of you couldn’t believe the shocking things I had to report, so I’ll be sending the weblinks out to you all via email.

Stimulating too were some of the discussion points you have written in with.

I was particularly taken with one suggested topic, that of ‘inter-familial relationships”. What a wonderful phrase, I thought, and one which I vowed to use more often. We are all one big family, and the relationships between each one of us are what bring meaning to the world.

Only the other day I happened to be paying a visit to Father Ruckable, that dashing young pastor and acting abbot of Mitzmaid Cloister, the only mixed abbey in the country.

Whilst having dinner with him in the great hall, I mentioned the subject of “inter-familial relationships” to the Father, and he found the matter most stimulating.

He said that the monks and the nuns of the abbey practised a very cold and reserved manner one unto another, a habit instilled by the previous abbot, and one he was keen to overcome.

Indeed as I looked around the great hall I perceived that the monks and nuns were not looking or even speaking to each other, and felt sorrowful that this sacred house lacked so much the warmth of human intercourse.

Feeling my sack under the table (I had been Christmas shopping earlier that afternoon), I hit upon an idea. ‘Why not share out a little wine?’ I suggested to Father Ruckable, handing him a bottle of champagne. ‘After all, was not the water turned to wine, long ago?’

The Father thought this a super idea, and accepted. Taking his brut firmly in both hands, he quickly popped his cork. It foamed out everywhere!

Frowning at the Father’s mess, I teased open my rosé carefully, gripping with my thighs under the table.

The wines were passed around all the fellowship at table. After just a few sips, the atmosphere had thawed. Here and there a conversation started up as the brothers and sisters warmed to each other, and before long, tongues were wagging throughout the hall.

Another few glasses and all reserve had evaporated! I was amazed to see such confirmations of human intimacy, such ejaculations of intense affection that had been pent up for so long.

All around, people were opening up, making secret admissions to each other. Some pairs and small groups even rushed out of the hall altogether, no doubt to find somewhere more private to continue their intercourse away from the hubbub.

Everyone was enflamed with the spirit of openness. Even Father Ruckable showed a little pinkness around the head. Pulling back his hood, he asked myself and another nun if we would bare our souls to him in the vestry.

I am embarrassed to say that I do not remember everything that happened that night, but later on, back in my own bed at Frock Cottage, I felt a satisfaction deep inside that I had played a part and changed so many lives.

With blessings and glad tidings,

Sister Foundly