”Sundays could be really boring back in the days when all shops were shut. "Family time" meant the woman was up early to prep a roast for sunday lunch, then the men could piss of down the pub for a couple of hours whilst the woman cleared away the lunch. He could come back, watch a bit of sport and have a nap whilst she was prepping a tea of sandwiches and cake etc.”
”Grandstand on the telly. Mum in the kitchen making food. Me and my siblings occupying ourselves”
It wasn’t necessarily any better if dad didn’t like sport - mine didn’t - but that didn’t mean that dsis and I got to watch TV on a Sunday - for two reasons. Firstly, TV before 4pm was Forbidden by my mum (unless it was Wimbledon, which she wanted to watch), and secondly because the programmes on Sunday were beyond boring. If you didn’t like sport, you got Songs of Praise, One Man and his Dog, Antiques Roadshow, or some terribly worthy BBC adaptation of the most tedious books - usually Dickens.
My memories of Sunday’s as a child/teenager are pretty much me, in my bedroom, reading a book, or, for 26 thrilling
weeks, listening to Lord of the Rings being serialised on radio 4, whilst mum and dad gardened, and dsis sat in her room, reading (she was not a Tolkien fan so was denied the thrill of those 26 weeks.
And how can I have forgotten - dad listening to The Archers omnibus on R4!