I love Sundays

When I was a child Sundays were very ‘special’. It’s not that we were a particularly religious family – certainly not regular church goers – but my grandmother held firm views.

You did not do any washing on a Sunday – and you’d hang your head in shame if the neighbours were to see anything on the linen line: I was not allowed to go and play with my friends, and then there was always the traditional Sunday roast with Yorkshire pudding (whether or not it was beef).

Nowadays, since retirement, weekdays and weekends blend together in a kind of blur but Sundays stand out as being different.

For one thing, I feel I can have a bit of a lie-in, especially now that we’re not likely to be disturbed by Claude at some unearthly hour – we usually have a roast dinner, a bit later than usual, and everyone sits round the table where – once the wine has taken effect – we might even have a conversation.

It doesn’t matter if there’s washng on the line or neighbours mowing their lawns, although in our village the rules forbid noise before 10 o’clock on Sundays, but there is a general feeling of relaxation everywhere.

Even the cats seem to be influenced by that ‘Sunday feeling’ and after a morning’s play in the garden some have  draped themselves on the armchairs to doze.

Bear has settled down to watch the Tour de France and Whale has gone back to bed to read, accompanied by Parsley and Pepper.

Ahh – peace, perfect peace.

7 Responses to “I love Sundays”

  1. Sophie Says:

    I prefer Saturdays but Sundays are good too!
    Chaddy is lying in the grass outside, acting as if no-one can see him, Chris is cooking a roast dinner -vegan bean burger for me) and garlic and lemon roast potatoes.
    All is good and for once the sun is shinning!
    Looking forward to seeing you soon.

    Yes, won’t be long now. The sun has been shining here today, despite the forecast for grey skies.

  2. Keith Says:

    Sadly my lie-in days are now a thing of the past. I have a young and very demanding pup who gets me up at the crack of dawn to go outside for a play, poop, and wee. Then I am so wide awake that I can’t sleep if I go back to bed anyway. Jeez!

    So you’ve got a doggie companion after all. I’m so pleased but, as you say, you won’t get alot of peace and quiet now. What size will he grow to and what’s his name?

  3. BearNaked Says:

    Sundays when my children were young and still at home were family days.
    It was the one day of the week that we had the time to do things as a family.
    And Sunday dinner was always roast beef with roasted potatoes and carrots with lots of gravy. Dessert was lemon meringe pie.
    I miss those days.
    Thanks for refreshing my *Sunday memories.*

    Bear((( )))

    Lemon merigue pie! My mum used to make it with Royale Lemon Meringue Pie Mix.

  4. tillylil Says:

    Do they have Sunday trading in France?
    I think Sundays are different since most of the shops are open although they close at 4.00pm.
    It isn’t such a ‘dead day’

    Lots of boulangeries open for the morning but supermarkets and shops are usually closed – apart from some small food shops.

  5. guyana gyal Says:

    Depending on where you are, Sundays can feel different, I know this sounds strange. In Jamaica, it was the day for beach or hanging out with friends, cooking, chatting, having lunch, hanging out by the pool.

    Obviously there was plenty of sun on Sundays there then!

  6. Pat Says:

    Even now I would still feel a pang of guilt going to the cinema on Sunday.
    Isn’t Max the puppy sweet?

    I’m sure there’s no need to feel guilty about going to the cinema on a Sunday, Pat. I certainly wouldn’t!
    And yes, Max is really cuddly, isn’t he – but I bet he’ll keep Keith busy!

  7. canisfamiliaris Says:


    My childhood Sundays were something like yours. No playing outside for us! And we were expected to attend church morning and evening with Sunday School in the afternoon. Dad seemed always to be asleep on the bed after lunch! I think this was because he worked five and a half days a week!! If mum had enough of us playing too loudle she would say, ‘Go and jump on your father!!’ This was to wake him up, of course!


    So who got it in the neck from dad when you woke him up? Was it you or your mum?
    Have you seen Keith’s new puppy? Maybe you could give him some tips on bringing up a lively youngster!

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