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Sunday Pleasure.

Are you too one of those people that look forward to the long weekend. Sunday is my favourite d their newest clothes. It is the day that many people go to Church. The ladies Bless them all try to look nice with a hat. Not all succeed some look to my inexperienced eyes a little too much as if a child had made its first attempt to make a new hat, A special day where all try to put on their best clothes, that usually means that the husbands must try and match their wives. A suit, preferably not too old must be worn on Sunday of all days. Mum spent a couple of hours pressing the damned thing. I would not mind betting that her arms still ache from that heavy hot iron that she will use. It was her mother’s iron and it will see her life out, so there.

The children have been warned to be on their best behaviour the threats were something to hear. Misbehave and I will stop your pudding at lunchtime. Misbehave and you go to Grand Ma’s for a week that will teach you to behave in Church and many, many more. Most of the children had heard the threats so many times that they only said, “yes Mum,” and left it at that. The threats never worked, as Mum was too busy getting the dinner ready. Dad like his piece of roast beef and the pudding especially if it was the promised treacle pudding had to be eaten. It would be a pity to throw such a fine pudding away. Apart from that mum would never throw any food away too many poor people are going hungry all over the world.

 The Church was nicely packed with all of the right people or so Mum said. Why there was nice old Mrs. Jones with her elder Sister nice people the Jones’s. Mind you mum had only nodded to the sisters Jones perhaps twice, she did not really know them. And I suspect that Mum did not want to know them too stuck up for Mum’s liking. Now young Aida she was a nice young woman especially since she told Mum that her children should take up singing. The Kids were in Aida’s Choir and sung nicely in or at every Church service.

Mr. Perkins, my is he not getting fat. Its all that beer he drinks. Every night he is to be seen in the local Public House. It is such a shame his wife is a very nice woman, what she ever saw in him I do not know.

You think that my Mum was a bit of a gossip, a bit is underestimated she was the best carrier of scandalous gossip that our town has ever seen. To my mum what she tells people is not gossip and if she picks someone out for a special report he or she deserves it. A nice juicy piece of slanderous scandal will make her sit up like a young poodle about to get a nice juicy fresh bone. Oh yes I love my Mum. She will tell all that want to know that I am one of the best in our town. Bern