LIVING LIGHT PILATES: Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning in the Civic Centre. £6.50 per class or class pass for £44 (eight classes plus one free session). Contact Nicola Murray-Smith email: firstname.lastname@example.org phone: 07776 457752.
FITNESS PILATES: Every Monday morning and Thursday evening in the Civic Centre. Get fit, tone up, prevent back pain, improve flexibility and posture. Equipment provided, just bring some water. Only £6 per class or £40 for eight weeks. Contact Jennie Palmer email: email@example.com phone: 07825 702775.
FLOWER CLUB: Peacehaven and Telscombe Flower Club meet on the third Wednesday of each month, 2pm for 2.30pm start at the Civic Centre. Floral demonstrations. Contact Christine Webb email: firstname.lastname@example.org phone: 01273 586191.
YOGA: With Natalie Heath every Tuesday from 6pm to 7pm in the Civic Centre. This class is back after the summer break on Tuesday September 4. Contact Natalie Heath email: email@example.com phone: 07738538094.
YOGA: Every Monday from 7.15pm to 8.15pm in the Civic Centre. Contact Jane email: firstname.lastname@example.org phone: 07703 167895.
DANCE CLASS: Little Stars Pre-School Dance Class for pre-school children aged 2 to 4 years, every Tuesday 9am to 9.30am at the Civic Centre. £3.50 per session. Contact Anneli Smith 07930 490058.
YOUTH THEATRE: Peacehaven and Newhaven Youth Theatre meet every Monday, 4pm to 5pm for ages 5 to 7 year, 5pm to 6pm for ages 8 years and over, at the Civic Centre. Your local, friendly drama club with a professional touch. Contact Zoe Giles email: email@example.com phone: 07729 583 264.
HALLOWEEN PARTY: Saturday October 27, 7pm to 9pm in the Civic Centre. Come along and enjoy the fun at our kids party. Ticket price £3 per person (adult and child) to include a hot dog and soft drink. Party games and entertainment provided by Unique Kids Parties. Contact email: firstname.lastname@example.org phone: 01273 589777.
FOOTNOTES: Chaplin and I gazed at each in the kitchen.‘Now, I came in here for something,’ I said. This little scene is repeated quite often these days in various rooms, as I struggle to remember what or why I should be there. This week a kind friend drove me up to South London to re-visit some of my boyhood haunts. I was amazed at how much I had forgotten. I used to boast that I could drive to anywhere in London without having to look at a map, but I wouldn’t be able to do that now. Plus the roads are much more crowded than they were twenty odd years ago. The long road that I was brought up in only had two cars in it. Now there was barely enough room for us to park. We had pre-arranged to look over my parents old flat, part of a large Victorian mansion, which I had last set foot in 1964. Then, there had been open fires, a still used coal cellar, and a bathroom converted from part of the hall. The part we occupied had been the servants quarters, and a row of brass bells had still hung there with the relevant room labelled under it. ‘Parlour’, ‘Sitting Room’, etc., All that had now been swept away and the interior of the flat given the mother of all makeovers. The coal cellar sealed off and central heating installed. Painted and carpeted throughout instead of the large rugs my parents had, the walls papered in an ultra modern design, to the obvious delight of the new occupants, who were fascinated by my description of it in the Fifties and Sixties. All the old fireplaces bricked up and replaced with gleaming radiators, and the bathroom converted into a shower and bathroom fit to grace the pages of Ideal Homes. My mother, who washed clothes in the bath and used the wooden mangle my father had set into the wall above it would have been over the moon at the glistening display of washer, dish washer, refrigerator, oven etc., that now graced her kitchen. My companion remarked on my silence as we drove home. I was thinking of the words a Buddhist monk said to me many years ago in Bhutan.‘One should never visit the scenes of the past, because whatever you are seeking will not be there’. At the time I was grief stricken over the death of my first love, whom I had known since we were eleven. He was right then as now of course. I returned home to our beautiful coastal strip, a waiting Chaplin and my comfortable armchair. Enjoy your week, go safely where ever your journeys take you.