Last night we had a casual handbell session with Josy, which we organised completely at the last minute (the idea of organising anything at the last minute is an immense novelty in our household).
It was a good thing to do because Simon was getting antsy for lack of handbell ringing, all our plans to take advantage of available babysitting last week falling foul of holidays (how dare they) and illness (not ours for a change).
It had been a while so we started with some Plain Bob and then moved on to a few courses of Cambridge. This is coming on very well and Josy was shortly ringing with good confidence and with more speed and rhythm than previously. Then came the question of 'what next?' "Primrose" I joked. "Ok" said Simon, not joking. Josy picked up her handbells with alacrity.
A successful course of Primrose followed, followed then, inevitably by Ipswich and Norfolk. Attempts at a 2-course touch of the four of them spliced fell at various hurdles until we surrendered to the late hour and inevitable brain death.
We were enjoying ourselves pushing the boundaries out for Josy, but feeling pretty comfortable about it, and it wasn't until we finished that I realised I had been pushing my own boundaries too. It was the first time I had rung these methods off the trebles. Go figure. Possibly I am getting to grips with this stuff after all.