Retirement Sundays - how are they different from the Sundays of working life, and from schoolday Sundays?
In my schooldays, it was a happy day - church in the morning early (I was a Catholic then), home for a lovely roast dinner courtesy of that brilliant cook, my mother - playing with my siblings and friends after lunch. In summer the aged parents would often take us out for a picnic on the moors - by bus in the early days. And on a rainy day daddy would take us to Western Park museum. In Winter we sometimes used to play Noah's Ark, with our china animal collections and shoeboxes for the Ark. I kept my collection of animals for years, until they went 'missing' in one our moves. And for many Winters, Jen and Catherine used to come round after lunch and spend the afternoon with us. We used to huddle round the gas fire in the dining room and make ourselves cheese on toast.
But - and there was a but - I can still remember that dread of school on Monday beginning mid afternoon and getting worse and worse.
When we were a young married couple, both working we often used to visit or entertain family and friends on a Sunday, or go out for the day... I used to cook a roast dinner.
In our Expat days, Sunday was the second day of the working week.
As this is a diary, what happened yesterday, on a retirement Sunday? Think, think... Col was off birdwatching all day, with sandwiches. I was at the Kingdom Hall in the morning, and did some ironing and stuff in the afternoon, and we ate together in the evening. I made an apple crumble from the cooking apples some kind person at Arundel had left outside their house for anyone passing by. They were lovely apples - not windfalls. So it was a good crumble.
Pat emailed to say she loved the Thomas Hardy poem, so I must find more - the ones that aren't usually anthologised - that will fit the blog.
He is very suitable poet for the Autumn of the year - and the Autumn of my life.
Once again I have to ask: How did this happen? Just yesterday we were a young married couple.
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