“IT’S TURNED OUT NICE AGAIN!”: “I’d love to live in a hot climate”, some say, and I think “where’s the fun in that”? A ‘hot’ climate is just that, ‘hot’. The weather in Britain may be a lot of things, but it’s never boring. It changes like the wind, [the wind of course being only one part of it’s chameleon-like repertoire.] The most, shy, tongue-tied person in the world can wax lyrical when speaking about British weather, giving a speech worthy of the house of commons, and yet describing perhaps only a single day. This morning for instance, the rain was more of a drizzle, but enough to soak the last roses of summer, [which looked as though they were crying.] Suddenly, out came the sun, as though someone had offered the sky a hankie and told it to blow it’s nose and stop snivelling. A breeze followed, and then a bit of a deluge, followed by an even lighter sky. The clouds themselves seemed to have no idea what was going on, so one half of the sky was alive with white fluffy clouds, and the other was a creepy- looking grey [as though someone’s mother isn’t using Persil!] Visitors to Rye, seem determined to elongate the summer, come rain or shine, and men will still be seen, [in almost October], in Bermuda shorts and sandals. Can you blame them, for trying to wring out every drop of sun. Fifty weeks of hard graft for a fortnight in Camber, is surely deserving of a few rays. However, when it starts raining, no one bats an eyelid. We Brits have everything well rehearsed for a sudden downpour. It’s all into The Edinburgh Woollen Mill for a pac-a mac, on with the ‘cardie’, and the folded up rain hood, and then out come the ‘brollies’ bashing into one another on Rye pavements. [Umbrella supremacy is another little game favoured by ‘the Brits’] A day or two of September heat, and we are having an Indian Summer[ everyone says so], and the barbecue’s are resurrected from the shed, and we invite friends round to watch the man of the house flipping hamburgers in shorts and a pinny. By evening it will be freezing, and this same man [who an hour ago looked like something from Hawaii –Five-O] will be on the phone ordering logs. It’s splendid really .We are forever in a state of anticipation, constantly dragging our anoraks into the excitement of the unknown!

HARVEST SUPPER: Iden is holding it’s Harvest Supper, On Saturday, October 3rd, in Iden village hall [7.30pm]. Tickets are on sale in Iden Village Stores [at £7 ] It’s always an enjoyable evening. As if the food wasn’t enough, we are to be held ‘spellbound’ by the same conjuror we had last year, Dan Tyrell Back again, by popular request’. He entertained us last year, and he was great!

YET MORE HARVEST CELEBRATIONS: On 3rd and 4th October, ‘Friends Of Iden Church’ are hosting an ‘Arts and Craft Fair’, in the ‘Old Hall’ Iden. Exhibits will be for sale, and profits go towards church repairs. Opening times are, 12 midday-5pm, on [Saturday 3rd.], and 11am-4pm, [on Sunday 4th]

Those visiting the exhibition can walk a few steps further to look at the harvest flowers in Iden Parish Church.

A SERVICE OF HOLY COMMUNION: There will be a service of Holy Communion, in Iden Parish Church, on Sunday 27th October, at 9.30am.

IDEN AND DISTRICT NATURAL HISTORY SOCIETY: The first lecture of the season is on Friday October 9th, at 7.30pm, in Iden village hall [part one is Teilhard de Chardin], and [part two, is Local Geology Update] Membership is a minimum of £14, and visitors pay £3. [Please contact Colin Page [telephone01-797 224-231], or Melvin Smith[telephone 01-797 270587] for any enquiries

THE POP-IN: The next Pop-In, will be on Monday 28th September, at 11am. In Iden village hall. Do come along, it’s great fun!

BINGO: The next Bingo session [to which anyone from the Rye area is welcome], is on Thursday 1st October, in Iden village hall. Doors open at 2pm, eyes down at 2.30pm.

SHORT- MAT BOWLS: There is short -mat bowls on Wednesday afternoons in Iden village hall at 2pm . Anyone who would like to join, please ring Teresa Parsons [telephone 01-797 280143] It’s a fun afternoon.

IDEN BOWLS CLUB HAS DONE IT AGAIN!: Iden bowls Club has won the Mermaid League title, for the fifth consecutive year. Hearty congratulations go to the captain of club, Kit Young, it’s committee, and all it’s members. Iden is a small club, but by golly it’s ‘mighty!’ The club is tucked away. It’s a rectangular haven hidden behind an Iden hedge, and on sunny days, there is no better place to be. On Sunday 20th September, the club celebrated ‘Roy’s Pick and Mix Day’, but were unable to play because of a water –logged green. This however didn’t stop the festivities, and members partied on regardless with a sumptuous buffet, celebrated their win, and just enjoyed each other’s company. Well done Iden Bowls Club! .

A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME: Is it my imagination, or is there something rather self- deprecating about the rose?. Surely it’s had sufficient notoriety. It’s our national emblem for heavens sake. Reams of poetry have been written about it. Unlike most flowers, it’s given it’s very own patch, simply called ‘ the rose garden’, found in any stately home worth a guide book. Houses and streets are named after it, and songs like ‘Roses Are Blooming in Picardy’ always conjure up beauty and romance. People fair of face, are said to have ‘English- rose complexions, and the term, a rose between two thorns, only accentuates the beauty of the rose. The wars of The Roses, between the House of Lancaster and the House of York are renowned, yet we associate roses with love, not war. A single rose can erase marital disharmony, so think what a bunch will do. The rose itself however seems to shun the limelight, oblivious to it’s own charms. In a garden of mixed flowers it seems set apart , separated from the more ebullient flowers, by it’s own shy beauty.. Can we detect some wistfulness there?. Could it be that the Rose would like to join in and mingle more freely with the big ‘Shasta Daisies,’ and the ‘Red Hot Pokers’? Perhaps, but It prefers to keep it’s own council It steadfastly sees us through the summer months, and in the autumn, out of the kindness of it’s heart, will come up with a second flowering. It can’t be easy being a ‘ born -again rose’, resurrecting new growth every year .It even dies in a gentle, unobtrusive way, softly shedding it’s petals with a minimum of fuss. Perhaps we should further elevate it. into celebrity status, put it up on billboards, flaunt it in the tabloid press, but no, best to leave well alone, because like many of life’s treasures, the rose’s true beauty lies in it’s humility.

CONTACT ME: If anyone would like to add anything to the Village Voice, please ring Gill Griffin [telephone 01-797 280311] and I’ll gladly include it.

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