Like a Sunday Morning

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November 20, 2011 by agooddaytoyou

Suggested song to listen to while reading this blog – Easy by The Commodores –  http://youtu.be/7UHfu4w7jS8

Sunday, to me, is the ice-cream of the weekend, the cold shower after a long walk or a cigarette after good sex (Well, so I have been told. I don’t smoke, but I trust the people who have shared their wisdom.) It’s my favourite part of the weekend and week, and let me tell you why.

I have never really suffered Mondayitis and Sunday’s never filled me with dread about what was to come the next day or to start worrying about the things I did or didn’t do. Instead on Sunday’s I stop and breathe.

I guess for me Sunday is a glass half full kind of deal. There is still a whole day left to enjoy so what sulk around about it? Monday’s are inevitable like death and taxes.

But, let’s break it down for you why I love this day. For many years my Sunday’s started at 5am. No, it wasn’t because that’s when I left the club and came home to fall into bed. I worked at a bakery. So at 5am my alarm would go off, I’d get changed into my uniform and ride my bike to work. In summer it was an awesome way to start the day. In winter, not so much, but still refreshing and I got to warm up next to the ovens! But imagine getting to walk into a bakery first thing in the morning when everything is still warm and fresh. *swoons* Ah, those were the good old days when I could still eat bread. We will get to that another time though.

As I started my shift there would always be things coming out of the oven. Fresh warm bread rolls and croissants, loaves of bread and all the rest. My breakfast every Sunday morning for a long time was a warm buffet of baked goods. It didn’t suck, let me tell you.

Breakfast

When I wasn’t at work at the bakery, on a Sunday morning I would sleep in and stumble out of bed and wander down stairs. At this stage in time I lived with my sister and her husband. I had the upstairs of the house to myself, it was wonderful. I am lucky enough to say that my sister and I are best friends. We  have been through a lot together, didn’t always get along, but who does? We both have similar qualities, for example a lack of tact. Many times I walked downstairs to find my sister sitting on the couch reading the paper while the bench was filled with everything I needed to make pancakes.*

So into the kitchen I would go and whip up a batch of gluten and lactose free pancakes (Oh if only I knew how I was preparing for the future.) and sit for breakfast with my sister and her husband. We would talk about our weeks and catch up. This was how I liked to start my Sunday’s. To this day, I still like to make a big breakfast on the weekends.** The photo on the right was of this morning’s efforts.

As for the rest of my Sunday, that was inspired by my grandmother. I remember sitting with her and talking about “the old days” and how things were done when she was a girl. Traditionally Sunday was a day of rest. You went to church, you made lunch then you sat. You might read a book or play in the backyard, but that was it. You didn’t do your washing or cleaning, you just rested.

I have tried to carry that over to my life too. I try to get my shopping and cleaning done on Saturdays to give me a free day to do nothing.

My House of Sticks

When you start work at 6am the plus side is you get to finish early afternoon too. So every Sunday  afternoon I would head home, frock myself up and head into Southbank to my favourite tree and meet a friend. There we would grab some fish and chips, bring a book, iPod, game or built houses out of sticks.  As time went on this Sunday became a ritual and our other friends started to join us. At times we would have 15 plus people sitting around, talking, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. I don’t get to do it as often as I used too, but I still cling on to those memories when we didn’t have deadlines, diets, Xmas presents to buy or such busy lives that we forget how to stop and smell the roses.

Thankfully today was one of those days when I got to sit under a tree and just read my book. I wasn’t thinking about the washing I need to hang out, the dishes that need to be done or what I should make for dinner. I just read my book.

So, there you have it. That is why I’m a child of Sunday and hopefully always will be.

*I have always loved pancakes and in my family it seems they have become my ‘thing’. I don’t mind this fact, I kind of embrace it. And to toot my own horn, they are pretty effing good. Toot-toot.

**Though I do mix it up more now with waffles and fry ups depending on the severity of my hangover.

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One thought on “Like a Sunday Morning

  1. Sunday…this lovely post may have just converted me to some Sunday love.

    xx Thursday.

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