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Sunday afternoons

davidfowler

davidfowler

Exiled Brummie
I remember my Dad telling me of how, when he was a boy in the late 20's early 30's his parents would go for an afternoon walk from the cottages in Bromford Lane (by Bromford Wire Mills) up to the Reddicap and back, stopping when the thirst got to them for a drink at one of the pubs:p If not the Reddicap run, then they'd head down Bromford Lane and do a big circuit around Castle Bromwich through the fields. Of course, with no transport, walking was all they could do.

On another note, before I lost my Dad I got him to pinpoint on a map from 1886 the houses his Mom & Dad and the children lived in. It's interesting that the 5 houses between the time HIS Grandad moved into Bromford Lane from Warwick in about the 1870's to the 1930's all were within 1 mile. They moved from 4 Bromford Lane to 156 Bromford lane, to 296 Wheelwright Road, to 163 Bromford Lane and then to 183 Bromford Lane.
 
Sunday afternoons.

:rolleyes: Sunday afternoons I used to attend Sunday school at Yew tree road school. Or so my parents thought. I would go on my way and stop off at my Aunt Nells who used to cover up for me. One day my mom went to visit her and I had to run outside and hide behind the dustbin. Got found out eventually as usual. :redface: TTFN. Jean.
 
After church in the morning and Sunday dinner my dad would have a rest having been to the Uplands. Mom and I would walk from Uplands Road to William Street what ever the weather to her mom's. We would pick up a block of ice cream and wafers, have tea at Nan's and then our ice cream wafer. I can't remember the last time I had one they are all pre-made now but not the same. We can buy blocks ut I haven't seen the wafers for a while. We liked Midland Counties ice cream my sister-in-law liked Walls. :)Mo
 
After sunday school my sister Jean and I would go to my grandparents who lived next door, for sunday tea -

Grandad on our arrival would set down his book, light his pipe and play me a game of draughts. . .while Jean would sit and draw. It was always the same, when Grandma sets the dish of rice pudding on the table - Grandad never has any, my sister loved it, I didn't like it, but good manners dictated that I eat it and not hurt grandma's feelings. After which Jean, always went home

As the evening wore on Grandad would take out his concertina and play all old hymns - Seated there with a low fire burning in the grate and shadows dancing on the ceiling are still memories very special to me
 
Sundy Afternoons

My Sunday,s Would Start When I Got UP At Eight Oclock
Get Up And Get A Plate Of Hot Porrich And A Peice Of Bread And Butter With
Jam On It Get A Wash And A Clean Shirt On
Then I Would Run Down The Lichfeild Rd To Dyson Hall Church Hall
And Get Changed In to My Choir Boy Robes Ready For The Local Parish
CommunityFor The Sunday Morning Service Then Dash Back Up The Lichfeild Rd Back To The House For Dinner Just Before Dinner Was Put Up MomWould Say Nip Around To Mrs Marshall And Asked Her For ABIT Of Fresh Mint From Her Garden ,Mom Would Chop It UP And Mix It And Put It In A Jug And Put It On The Table For Our Roast Lamb ,Then My Father Would Say Right Get
Ready For Sunday School Then I Would Run Back Down The Lichfeid Rd To Dyson Hall For Sunday School, When I Went Back Home About 4 Oclock
The Hawker With A Basket Of Penny Wnkles Would Come Up Our Yard Shouting Penny Winks ,Penny A Pint Dad Sent Me Out For 2Pints With A Jug
We All Got Excited And WE All Got Our Needles Issued To US To Pick Out The Winkles From The Shell Then I Would Have To Dsh Back To Dyson Hall church
For The Evening Service And That Was My Sunday Afternoon , Astonian , ;;;
 
Sunday afternoons.

:confused2: Excuse me for being thick Darby but what was Burdens?. TTFN. Jean.:confused2:
 
GEE GEE JEAN,

The best ice cream in Birmingham, possibly the world, down Ladypool Road.
 
Every second sunday, us kids and Mom, (Dad went down the pub) would hop on the #7 (or the #5) into town, then on to Midland Red #151 (I think) out to Bearwood where my Nan and Grandad lived on Harold Road. As soon as we got off the bus there there always seemed to be the smell of burnt leaves/grass in the air. To this day, whenever I smell burnt leaves, I am transported back to those Sunday afternoon trips. When we got to my Granparents house, it was dinner time, and we ALWAYS had Roast chicken, cabbage, boiled potatos and gravy.

Mark
 
David my friend, only just found your post but as usual a good one.

Sunday, Aston, Roast dinners & Sunday School. Just the same when we moved to Erdington,no Sunday School, but Witton Lakes and Rowing Boats, the Boat House Cafe cakes and Ice cream and Men and lads Sailing their Model Sailing Boats.

Now, Roast Dinners papers and a sleep in front of the Telly.

But the one thing I miss on Sunday is how quiet it used to be, its almost impossible now, even though we live in a wood.

But nice memories
 
Hi Alf
"The county of Suffolk, like the rest of East Anglia, is a gem for birding. Few have mastered its diversity. From the Stour in the South, to the Waveney and Broads. From the Brecks in the West to the coast in the east, the county provides something for everyone.
The Breckland sees Goshawk, Stone Curlew, Crossbills and other coniferous woodland and heath specialities. The Breckland is a unique habitat and Suffolk has more of it than Norfolk. The Fens provides wetland species - wintering ducks and geese and breeding birds such as Harriers and Golden Orioles.
In the East of the county are the river valleys, and many warblers amongst the reeds. The estuaries of Suffolk have their own variety. The coast is a world of its own. Minsmere, Landguard, Orfordness all spring to mind. Bittern, Marsh Harrier, and Avocet all breed here."
Phew, no wonder you can't sleep on Sunday afternoons with all that racket!
On a serious note, we've just booked a cottage in Southwold (our favourite resort) in late September so I'll be able to comment on the noise issue later!
 
Sundays for me meant best clothes for Sunday School - although the half crown dad gave me for the collection went on bus fare to town for a couple of hours wander round, and watch the progress on the new bull ring shopping centre being built.
I'd usually then visit New St station, gaze longingly in the windows of the model shop in Navigation Street, and make the model railway run by holding my hand over a 'magic eye' in the window, then walk up Corporation Street, cut through the back streets to Colmore Row and catch the no. 9 back home, remembering to get off the stop before to make it look like I'd walked from the Church Hall. 2½d fare each way from the 2/6 had given me 2/1 extra pocket money, too!
 
It's interesting to compare the various stages through our lives.
My boyhood Sundays revolved around playing football on the Valour Sports field in the morning, then going over the road to my nan's who always gave me a shandy (more lemonade than beer I'm sure!) and then running up back home to be on time for dinner. I always associate the smell of roast lamb with Two Way Family Favourites (Jean Metcalf and Cliff Mitchelmore). It seems we always had lamb but probably not.
Teenage days were spent playing Sunday football for the team we formed from our school team. Going home dirty and probably kicked to pieces for a roast. Lolling about in the bath before going up town to one of the many pubs we frequented (my Nan's got a lot to answer for!)
Working life days, when I came back to the Midlands, had alternate Sundays going to my parents - more roast lamb dinners - with the other weekends having them come to us in Olton or Knowle. Lazing about after eating with a bottle or two of wine but no snoozing.
Since retiring the "turn and turn about" continued but the venue changed to Banbury as did the wife! In the last few years we found ourselves doing more of the entertaining as Mom's health deteriorated but the Sunday roasts continued. Eventually I lost them both in 2006. Now we enjoy entertaining my son and daughter. She has a new man living in Warwick so we get to see them much more now. I tend to refuse the offer of the third bottle of red being a "sensible" and concerned father. How boring!
Of all the phases, I still remember the first with the most fondness, probably the innocence of childhood (or rose tinted specs?)
 
My memories of Sunday afternoons, just after WWII when petrol was still rationed, was for my parents and I, together with one or other of my friends, driving out to Stonebridge on the A45 Coventry Road, have a picnic and sit and watch the traffic go by.
My, what unusual entertainment we had in those days!

Before the 1950's, Stonebridge was in the countryside and was just a roundabout where the A452 to Kenilworth crossed the A45. I remember the Stonebridge Hotel on one of the corners which I think was derelict and on the opposite corner, across the island, was a large patch of waste land that you could park and play on. The stone bridge was a small and almost unnoticeable bridge where the A45 crossed a river (Cole ??). Not living in Birmingham for many years, I expect the whole area to have been swallowed up by interchanges connecting to the NEC.

With petrol rationing, motorists had to use their allowance judiciously, so a trip from my home in Alum Rock to Stonebridge probably used up a fair proportion of the meagre weekly allowance.
 
My Nan used to come to us for sunday lunch every other week. After dinner we would go to witton cemetry to put flowers on my grandfathers grave both my grandfathers died before I was born and as they are not buried to far from each other we would visit both. My uncle who died when he was 18 was buried with my grandad and his best friend was in the grave next to them simply marked Joey there never seemed to be any flowers on his grave so sometimes we would put a few there as well. I loved reading the headstones and we would spend many a happy hour just reading them.

Denise
 
It meant Educating Archie and Family Favourites on the radio, or as we all called it the Wireless, then hoping my father would come home early from the pub so that I didn't have to bolt my dinner to be in time for Sunday School.

Once we were married and still living in Birmingham we used to spend one Sunday lunchtime with my parents and the next with Brians'. After lunch we always caught the number 11 bus to Handsworth Wood, and walked from there to Greenhill road to visit Brian's gran who would have the tea on the table waiting for us. From there we would go into town and queue at the Odeon in New Street , there was never any question about what film was showing, we saw them all and enjoyed most of them.
 
A regular occurance on a Sunday morning for me and my friends was to get on the No 8 bus at Nursary Road, Lozells and go all the way round the inner circle. We would take a bottle of water (out of the tap) and some jam sandwiches and sit on the front seats upstairs (if free). It seemed to take for ever to travel the inner city, and if my memory serves me right it cost 5d. We would then get home ready for Sunday dinner .... We were easily pleased and satified by ordinary life in those days?

keith
 
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