Telscombe

COUNCILLORS SURGERY: On the first Saturday of each month from 10am to 11am in the Civic Centre. No appointment necessary. Come along and see your local councillors.

RESIDENTS ASSOCIATION: Telscombe Residents’ Association meet on the first Thursday of each month from 7.15pm to 9.15pm in the Civic Centre. Email the secretary at christinebowman3213 @btinternet.com for a copy of the meeting agenda.

SUPPORT GROUP: Breast Cancer Support Group meet on the first Wednesday of each month from 1pm to 3.30pm in the Civic Centre. Contact email: bcsgroup@btinternet.com.

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: mrsnatalieheath@yahoo.co.uk phone: 07738538094.

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: nicolalivinglight@yahoo.com 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: jen@jenniepalmer.co.uk phone: 07825 702775.

YOGA: Every Monday from 7.15pm to 8.15pm in the Civic Centre. Contact Jane email: janechantyoga@hotmail.co.uk 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: pnytyouththeatre@outlook.com phone: 07729 583 264.

FOOTNOTES: As I have got older, my sleep patterns have altered dramatically. There was a time when, having finished work at around 11pm, I would then announce that now everything is open, where shall we all go? This would usually mean a Soho night club or private drinking club until around 2am, eating not very digestible food and drinking highly over priced alcohol. One such club, on the Chelsea Embankment, known to everybody as the elephants graveyard, I have no idea what its real name was, but it was a particular favourite of mine, and I spent many a night carousing there. Of course I was fortunate inasmuch as I didn’t have to rise before midday at the earliest, or when the streets were properly aired, as I was fond of saying. I was reminded of this the other morning, when having stayed up until midnight, to watch an old friend on a TV show, I tottered to bed totally exhausted, cursing myself for not just having recorded it, so I could have watched it later. Deep into a coma-like sleep, I suddenly surfaced when a freezing cold wet paw smacked me around the face and I stared into Chaplin’s wide green eyes, as he sat on my chest. The bedside clock told me it was 2.15am. Using a good deal of foul language, I got up to see what the fuss was about. Staggering into the kitchen, with him behind me, I glanced through the glass door to see a torch being waved about in the garden. The security lights had tripped and part of the garden was bathed in light. I scrabbled for my keys and unlocked the back door in time to see someone take off through my back gate, that I had earlier left unlocked for the dustmen and forgotten to re bolt. I checked and everything was secure, the sheds and the summerhouse untouched. It was then I realised that apart from my slippers I was stark naked, and freezing cold. I made the garden gate secure and returned indoors to make a hot drink for myself and I cut a slice from the steak I was cooking the following day, for my clever watchman, who wolfed it down. I worked out that he had gone into the garden to do what cats have to do, and black and silent, would never have been seen by the would be intruders. By this time it was nearly 3am, I was wide awake and Chaplin showed no inclination for sleep. so we both watched the dawn come up, listening to the BBC World Service and having breakfast at midday. It was quite like old times. Have a splendid week and go safely, where ever your life takes you.