As individuals reflect on their past, the beauty of growing older lies in the wealth of memories accumulated over time. Among these, traditional Sundays from childhood often emerge as vivid recollections, particularly on dreary, rainy days that evoke nostalgia.
Each Sunday began with a familiar call resonating through the lively household, typically initiated by a father’s enthusiastic shout: “Who wants to earn sixpence?” In a family of seven siblings, the opportunity to run errands was keenly sought, especially the task of fetching the morning newspapers.
Morning rituals and delicious aromas
Being the youngest, the chance to run to the shop was rare; however, when it did occur, the exhilaration of earning a sixpence was palpable. This small fortune often went toward a bar of Caramac chocolate, enjoyed in transit and shared with siblings.
The enticing scent of Sunday roast soon permeated the home, as the mother diligently prepared the meal shortly after breakfast. The aroma of roast lamb, a personal favorite, filled the air, making it nearly irresistible. It was often a mystery how she managed to create such a magnificent feast on a modest budget, featuring side dishes such as crisp roast potatoes, creamy mash, tender cabbage, vibrant peas, sweet carrots, fluffy Yorkshire pudding, and the star of the meal—the roast meat itself. Attempts to replicate that enchanting aroma have proven unsuccessful.
Family gatherings and playful afternoons
Once the meal was ready, the family was promptly ushered outside to play, returning just in time to indulge in the feast. Punctuality was crucial; no one dared risk arriving late and missing the delicious spread on the table.
After the meal, the family would gather in the sitting room, where laughter and lively discussions filled the atmosphere. These moments were particularly cherished during winter months, sitting beside a roaring fire, courtesy of a father’s coal business. Afternoons were spent engaging in games such as snakes and ladders, chess, and cards, with each sibling vying for a chance to play. The spirited debates that ensued were memorable; although the contributions of the youngest were often met with laughter, valuable lessons were learned about asserting one’s voice amid the lively chaos.
A feast fit for royalty
Despite modest means, the spread for Sunday afternoon tea was impressive. It often evoked the whimsical verses of John Betjeman’s poem, *Myfanwy*. During this delightful event, the mother would take a backseat, allowing the children to take charge. The table was adorned with sandwiches of various fillings, two types of Swiss rolls—chocolate and jam—trifle, fruit cake, luscious angel cake, tinned fruit, a jug of custard, and an assortment of homemade bread, complemented by delightful seafood treats.
The youngest siblings often earned a penny to assist in making winkle sandwiches or peeling prawns for their father. This small task meant they could enjoy a penny bun on their way to school the following day.
Evenings by the fire
As the day came to a close, the family would be bathed, their hair washed, and gathered in front of the fire, feeling fresh and smelling of medicated shampoo. If luck favored them, there would be just enough milk left for a comforting mug of Ovaltine or hot cocoa before bedtime. A quiet reading period of half an hour was instructed, providing a gentle conclusion to the busy day.
During winter, the chill in the home was tangible; central heating was absent. Frost patterns adorning the inside of single-glazed windows were a source of wonder. Occasionally, a warmed brick wrapped in an old towel would be placed in beds for added warmth.
Each Sunday began with a familiar call resonating through the lively household, typically initiated by a father’s enthusiastic shout: “Who wants to earn sixpence?” In a family of seven siblings, the opportunity to run errands was keenly sought, especially the task of fetching the morning newspapers.0
Each Sunday began with a familiar call resonating through the lively household, typically initiated by a father’s enthusiastic shout: “Who wants to earn sixpence?” In a family of seven siblings, the opportunity to run errands was keenly sought, especially the task of fetching the morning newspapers.1