‘The Memory of water’ is coming together well. To quote from our playmeister and leader young Kate ‘Tuesday's rehearsal was a run of Act One. This was quite a slow affair, but all the acting was on top form. Characters are now totally believable and the feelings and intentions on show are all moving in the right direction. Just a bit of tightening of the pace and it's a corker. We worked on the last section of Act One, which is the very difficult trying-on-of-dead-mother's-clothes bit. Lots of parallel conservations and much wardrobe business make this one of the trickiest parts of the play. But after several runs, the cast were on top of it. Act Two follows next week...’ So there you have it, from the horse’s mouth as it were.

I have been on the committee of the Kingston Bagpuize Drama Group now for 34 years (I joined as an infant you understand) and I reckon that’s enough for anybody, so I shall not be standing for re-election this year. If only our government had the same intentions.

Over the years I have been Chairman for a total of around eight years, Treasurer for ten and appeared in forty-two plays. People have got an OBE for less I can tell you.

As befitting a lad of my age I have taken up going for a walk a couple of times a week in an effort to turn back the clock and recover my Adonis figure and youth.

These walks are nothing fancy just one foot in front of the other but extend to around four miles each time. The battalion I am marching with (formerly known as the cheapskate theatre club) are all roughly the same age and we do resemble some kind of pensioner’s demonstration en route through the lanes around here.

Now one of the main problems of ageing is the old memory. Elephants are reputed to have good memories so I was interested in this story told to me earlier this week.

In 1986, Peter Davies was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University. On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Peter approached it very carefully.

He got down on one knee, inspected the elephant’s foot, and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Peter worked the wood out with his knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot. The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments. Peter stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled.Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away.

Peter never forgot that elephant or the events of that day. Twenty years later, Peter was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenaged son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned andwalked over to near where Peter and his son Cameron were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Peter, lifted its front foot off the ground, and then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.

Remembering the encounter in 1986, Peter could not help wondering if this was the same elephant. Peter summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing, and made his way into the enclosure.He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Peter legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly. Probably wasn't the same elephant.