Sundays in the "olden days"

No prefer my Sundays now more choice!

There's a theory that in large families/small houses in the past all children were conceived on Sundays when other siblings were at Sunday School.

MissAdventure

I hated Sundays, because I knew Monday was next, and that meant school.
After the charts on the radio, it was time for "Sing Something Simple", then bath time, ears cleaned out, and toenails cut painfully short.
I feel depressed thinking about it!

Sing something simple …oh the most depressing programme ever. Music to slit your throat to my ex used to call it if it came on the radio when we were driving.

I’ve often hated Sunday. Day before going back to boarding school or when there 2 religious services and a house meeting and (fir me) a telling off for leaving possessions around.

I don’t remember minding as a young child, but as a teen I found Sundays deadly. We had a big garden so parents were endlessly gardening, we never went anywhere, all the shops were closed, everywhere smelt of the roast dinner cooking - not that I minded a roast, my mother was a good cook.

We weren’t a religious family, so no church (though there was Sunday school when I was very small) but largely out of sheer boredom I signed up for confirmation classes, which at least meant meeting up with some school friends on Sunday evening. And there was usually homework hanging over me, since I’d never have done it early to get it out of the way.

Best part (if it was on Sunday) was the likes of Round the Horne on the radio.

I've already mentioned listening to Two Way Family Favourites but once I was a teenager it was always the top ten on Radio Luxembourg, laying on my bed frantically turning the dial on my transistor radio through all the crackles and buzzing till finally hitting the station then the excitement of what was at number one

Sunday was Mass first thing and we were not allowed to eat until afterwards so I sat with a rumbling tummy.
My mother would pinch me hard if I dared to look around, rustle the leaflet or sing too loud or too quietly.
I was trussed up like a chicken in some god awful outfit….usually crimpolene.
My mother would then very begrudgingly make a roast, she was no cook and every meal was served with a big dollop of resentment.
She used to make a horrible cheesecake from a packet mix, I think it was called Greens.
It was such a relief when Walls invented the Vienetta and Arctic Roll.

In the days that my grandparents were alive, I would be about 6, my Grandma made a proper Lancashire meat and potato pie for tea, it was served with pickled red cabbage. It was food heaven.
We would then be given half a crown to go to Mrs Andrews shop, we would spend ages choosing our sweets, they were put in pink and white cone shaped bags, it made me so happy.
Mrs Andrews had a beehive hairstyle and lots of make up, she didn’t go to Church so I’m amazed we were allowed to enter her shop!
I wanted to be Mrs Andrews.

In the 1950s I lived in London but when I stayed with my family in North Wales we had to attend the village church on Sunday. I had to sit there for an hour listening to a very serious church service in Welsh. You learn to behave and sit still even when bored! I couldn't understand a word, but it gave me a feeling for the language and the sound of it. My family were all Welsh speakers so I love hearing the language even though I still can't speak it. I don't know why my mother never taught me Welsh, I guess she thought I'd never need it.

Goodness, Sago, half a crown was riches indeed when I was a child - it would buy you five whole Mars Bars!

We always had a car as Dad needed it for work. We would often go swimming on a Sunday morning - us and the neighbour's kids in the car and off to the big swimming pool in Cambridge. Both my parents were keen swimmers but somehow I didn't get the hang of it until I was 11!

When we got back, Mum would hang the wet swimsuits out on the line and somehow simultaneously manage to magic up a Sunday roast dinner, which she had presumably put in the Rayburn before we went out.

And then there were the radio programmes. Round the Horne or the Navy Lark at lunchtime and Sing Something Simple at teatime.

In preparation for school I would line all the shoes up on the coal bunker and polish them and whiten the plimsolls.

I also remember riding lessons on a Sunday morning. We went to a riding school in Bury St Edmunds and on the way back Dad would stop at he pub in Kentford and drop in for a beer while we sipped our Britvic pineapple juice sitting in the car, outside which was a "treat". We would then carry on back home for another of those magical Sunday roast lunches.

The sun always shone and there was never any traffic on the roads.

Sundays in the 50s for us was Sunday school ( Methodist) where were taught about the evils of alcohol - the warnings had little impact! Mum not really religious, just enjoyed a bit if peace and quiet on Sunday afternoon! I enjoyed SS. After lunch Dad fell asleep in the chair with the newspaper on his head - his message that said " do not disturb" ! We played and argued in the garden or Mum took
us for a walk. No shops open , and no washing on the line !! The bath and bed before school on Monday.

We always went to Sunday school. Lunch was usually a roast and either apple pie or rice pudding. Most Sundays we would visit my paternal grandparents who lived about five miles away. They had a huge garden and orchard so we loved it. On other Sundays relatives would come for tea. It was always tinned salmon, salad, trifle, one of mum’s wondrous chocolate cakes and ham off the bone. I remember Sing Something Simple! It was our cue for bedtime..

I went to Sunday school/church every Sunday for years.
And had to wear white gloves and a hat. One particular hat had a long feather in it. I hated it! We always had a Sunday roast with vegetables from the garden of which we grew many. And we kept chickens, so they were often the Sunday roast. Mum used to pick one up, wring its neck and then give it to me to pluck. I became quite expert.
Daddy died when I was nine, so then we had a succession of lodgers which joined us for lunch on Sundays. I remember them all quite vividly.
We had a 'front room' which was only used on Sundays and at Christmas. One day, during the war, we were out shopping and a bomb dropped nearby. When we got home there was glass everywhere. All the windows at the front of the house were blown in. I remember being upset because my two best dolls which I was never allowed to play with, and they always sat on the sofa in that front room, were covered in broken glass. I cried for ages.
I have so many memories of childhood, I could write a book.

I used to get dragged along to Sunday School by my granny - my own parents weren't religious, but allowing my granny to take me to Sunday School was my dad's one concession to her after starting a family feud by refusing to have me christened! I hated it and was eventually allowed to stop going after getting into trouble by asking too many questions! I'd have much rather been left to go to the local stables as I did on a Saturday and spend all my time with the horses.

On Saturday I was sent to the butcher to buy the Sunday roast, a joint of beef, pork or a leg of lamb. It was a major purchase and we had 3 days meals from it.
Our Sundays went as follows, a cooked breakfast, mine was usually a bacon sandwich. Get ready for Church. We always wore our Sunday best. After Church, help my mother prepare the dinner and afterwards my sisters and I look turns doing the washing up.
We listened to Two Way Family Favourites on the radio. After dinner we sat quietly reading or listening to the radio, waiting until it was time to go to Sunday School at 2:30pm.
After Sunday School we had to play in the house or garden as we weren't allowed to play outside or in the park.
We always had afternoon tea on Sundays, and a light supper before bedtime.

I have always loved Sundays. When I was a child, it was the only day my shopkeeper father wasn’t working. So many happy memories. Sunday is always a quiet day here now, but that suits us. No need to hurry anywhere.

My father hated Sundays as he was sent to Sunday School for Christian indoctrination three times during the day every week. He never set foot in church as an adult unless it was absolutely necessary for a family event. So much for the golden past.

I'm envious of the idyllic-sounding childhoods some of you had... Sunday roasts, visits to grandparents, big gardens, trips out, etc.

Sunday was boring, as it was for many people, and can only remember sometimes going to Sunday school in the afternoon, and playing in the street if anyone was around.

There was something stifling and stolid about that dreary day.

Sundays at boarding school no lessons, and the seniors got to go for long afternoon walks along the lanes across fields, exploring. There was always morning church into the town in a crocodile with the headmistress where the minister although handsome was also boring. We were always famished when we got back to the school and Sunday lunch was good----roast beef, beetroot and roast potatoes. Seniors had to act as waitresses for the little ones so could not eat as soon as the others.

Seniors' Sunday tea was a special treat as eaten around the common room table accompanied by noisy talk and undiscipline . Parents sometimes sent extras such as peanut butter or biscuits and we shared that among ourselves.

I’m glad the OP said ‘Olden days ‘ and not ‘good old days’.

Usually a cooked breakfast, then not being able to go outdoors on a Sunday (unless it’s to go to Sunday School or Church) it was catch up on homework ready for school on Monday.

Always a roast lunch followed by a fruit pie that Mum would have baked, whilst listening to ‘2 way family favourites’ we all loved that, eating lunch in the kitchen, the only warm room in the house.

Special occasions we ate in the dining room where a fire would be lit to thaw the room out.

Sunday afternoons was Sunday School then I was allowed to read a book until tea time, sandwiches, fruit and homemade cakes.

Then ‘sing something simple’ as someone else said , music to be endured, in the Summer it was easy to escape to the sitting room (in Winter it was too cold) and read, until bedtime and school the next day.

When I was older we had a Dansette record player and Mum would play her Jim Reeves records all afternoon, there was no escape, if it was sunny I was allowed to sit in the garden under the tree and read.

No cleaning or housework/laundry/ shopping was ever done in our house on a Sunday.

I hated Sundays apart from Mums lovely roasts. But I read masses of books!

Sundays were the worst 52 days of the year. Nothing to do, nowhere to go (we didn't have a car or much money so no trips out either).
At senior school, I used to leave all the homework set on Fridays until Sunday (grammar school, there was loads of it) so that made it even worse.

I liked Sundays because my dad would be home. We went to church as a family then after 15 min or so the children would go into Sunday School. After Sunday dinner which was a bit grander than weekdays we went for a walk still in our Sunday best to the beautiful parks around our home or to visit my grandparents for tea then home to watch TV or read. Shops were generally closed but I remember a time when to get round the Sunday trading laws you could get a free 3 piece suite when you bought 1lb of carrots for £100.

Born in 1949 I suppose I was part of the first TV generation having been brought up in a home with a TV but as far as I can remember the scheduling was sparse. It came on around 4ish with things like Muffin the Mule, the Wooden tops and Andy Pandy. As I got older we watched a programme after the news which took you to places like India and Africa. I loved those stilted newsreel type shows as it opened up the world to me. Later still they imported programmes from the USA and we thrilled to The Lone Ranger, then came Ivanhoe, Robin Hood, William Tell etc. Blue Peter was a favourite of ours as we moved through Primary School together with the Magic Roundabout. Sad to say my memory is fuzzy but the Coronation made the biggest impression on me.

I still remember that gloomy Sunday evening feeling, homework to be finished, my mother ironing school shirts in the kitchen or getting packed lunches ready and into the fridge, the theme music of the latest Sunday night serial meaning it was time to go to bed.

It took me years and years to shake off the Sunday evening blues. I'm not sure I fully have.

I can remember enjoying Sundays as a child in the 1940's.early fifties. For one thing my dad was usually at home ( did sometimes have some overtime on Sunday mornings, but not regularly). He would make French Toast (due to an earlier horrific accident my Mum had when making chips, only he was permitted to do anything fried.

White bread dipped in egg and then fried and then plentifully coated with sugar. I loved it AND he usually let me have whatever sugar was over on his plate when he had ate his. So good to have both Mum and Dad. Then I would help Mum with some cleaning (she worked during the week).

Usually, i n the afternoon we would walk over to Mum's Parents home and meet up with Aunts and Uncles and cousins. Wonderful times. Tea was served in two sittings, children first, then adults. We had to assist my g.mother in getting things onto table an put away afterwards. After tea the adult would play cards and the children would play together.

By my early teens I had a Sunday morning job opposite where I lived at a newsagent, to help them out in the very rushy time of people paying the weekly newspaper bill etc. Would return back home in time for lovely Sunday roast dinner. Then would spend afternoon catching up on homework due in on Monday morning.

I must say it was a great relief when Sunday opening of shops became more of a norm. Can remember always being worried on Saturdays trying to think of anything I might require for the family the following day.

Sunday morning was Sunday school, didn`t really like it, then the highlight on arriving home was Family Favourites on the radio, then back to Sunday school in the afternoon. Sometimes I`d be allowed to get the bus afterwards to my great aunts for tea, then the bus home about 8pm.

I agree with those who said it was Sooo boring.
Hated Sundays, especially as a teenager nothing to do.
Thought I do remember listening into Comedy programmes on the Radio.. Round the Horn, Navy Lark, Clitheroe Kid. Those I did enjoy but that was just a hours worth.