How my troubled sole was healed
Douglas Bell recounts a strange brush with slippery eels
THE year 1998 may well be remembered for Viagra, but the Christmas period saw a breakthrough in another area: organ pedalling comfort for those sensuous beasts, who feel the urge to caress the board with toes and heels.
For 30 years, churches, deprived of solid fuel heating, have resorted to the instant hot draught with the result that mid-week shivers collaborate with damp stone floors.
Organists daring to stray from 'yon buffet' (Marsden spok for bench) to apprehend indolent singers have then received the dreaded coating of grit (perhaps other things?) under the foot.
On return to the bench, attempts at the all-important slippery glide have been reduced to a stuttering heel with abrasive feel (get the rhyme ?).
Years of research &endash; nail-less shoes, wax polish on the pedals, shouting at the organ builder &endash; made no headway.
At last, the use of French chalk proved beneficial, but only momentarily. The irritant 'rub' returned as the medication lost its potency.
Father Christmas brought the answer &endash; a toothbrush. Apply it to the soles and heels before each 'performance', but beware!
Organs don't like dust and grit, so do it with a firm single stroke (like administering the strap at school).
Previously, I've written about cutting toe nails. Now, it's brushing feet.
Yet again, this sound advice from 'grandad's' organ school sidesteps the 18th century toe pokers.
You must ask your dentist for an Oral B marked HOA and feel the fluence in your feet.
PS On no account cover the stone floor.
Dinner time
MORE than 30 members gathered for the annual dinner at the Three Acres, Roydhouse, for an evening of temperance and solemn debate. Our fine speaker was the Archdeacon of Pontefract, the Very Rev Tony Robinson.