Sundays in my childhood were always boringly quiet, nothing was open. Sometimes there weren't even buses. It was only years later while doing research for my book, I found this was a hangover from Oliver Cromwell's Protectorate when it was made law and only repealed in 1994 after the 1986 Bill was defeated.
Our Sundays in Shoredtich started with a fried breakfast with fried bread, then we'd go down the "Lane". Petticoat Lane as it was always known to us started in the 17th century, trading on Sundays from 9am till about 3pm. There was the flower market near the Mildmay Hospital, and Club Row, the dog and animal market, and yes it was a cruel as it sounds. Puppies who were weak were just thrown away under the stall.
Characters were the Pearly Kings and Queens raising money for the poor,
and Prince MonoluluHe was a bookie/fortune teller believe it or not.
Then we'd go home and have a roast dinner. Always on did Sunday, followed by tinned pears and cream or if we were really fancy, neopolitan ice cream (four flavours!) if it was Summer our Dad would drive us and our dog Prince a Labrador Alasation cross, (bought in dog lane) to Hampstead Heath for the afternoon. All East End dogs have noble names, like Prince, Tsar, etc. The lower down the social rank you were, the higher up your dog was!
Prince would have a rare old time head butting walkers and children, we always knew where
he was as they fell like nine pins down the hill. He always head butted in the back of the knees so no-one saw it coming!
Back home, bath Prince, bath us, french bread cheese and salad for tea, turn off Songs of Praise, and wait impatiently for Sunday Night at the London Palladium, later as I was the oldest I was allowed to stay up and watch Maigret which scared me silly.
Sundays now are so different, they are whatever you want them to be. Hubby is planting our garlic for next season, I had cereal for lunch as I didn't fancy anything else, and now I'm blogging down memory lane or is it Petticoat Lane?!!
Have a good weekend!