Dad was in charge of shoving us out the door and into the car and off to Mass, all gloriously clad in the same clothes we wore every Sunday.
What’s that saying, Sunday Best?
Off we would go in Dad’s pride and joy, an FJ Holden, was it blue? I have a feeling it was. Dad used to like to perhaps, every few years update the car, much to Mums horror! Mum just couldn’t understand why if the car was running well, well, why not just keep it? She was much more into looking at improving the house !
Much later when we, the children, had achieved grown up status, Dad had the nerve to say he just might like a Mercedes!
Well that got the huge big No! And no doubt a big wall of silence and huffiness continued, until Dad just laughed it off and life went on!
No need to mention, no Mercedes ever appeared to take possession of our garage!
Sometimes it was ten o’clock Mass at Saint Joseph’s, or if we were running late, we ended up at the eleven o’clock Mass at the Cathedral in the city. Sometimes Dad just decided that listening to the regular choir at Saint Mary’s might be nice. Had we been too boisterous on the Saturday, too naughty, did we need to be in a place of quietness, of peace? Oh dear, mmm…. nice to ask him now, ……well, tell me Dad, why!?
Mum did initially join us for our regular Sunday religious events, but after the birth and subsequent illnesses of my younger brother, that he seemed very prone to, she stopped.
Instead she stayed at home and cooked the magnificent,
Australian Sunday Lunch
What was on the menu, for this magnificent Australian Sunday lunch?
Roast leg of lamb, of course, with roast potatoes, pumpkin and peas or beans, both perhaps and of course homemade gravy, yum!
Followed by home made apple pie and ice cream or delicious whipped cream!
Isn’t freshly whipped cream just the absolute best!
Mum always made her own pastry, stewed her own apples and it was always just delicious. She lost her Mum early, just married I believe, so possibly my Nana, Dad’s Mum, had a great influence on her cooking abilities and of course my Nana was an amazing cook.
Did I hide my meat under the cushion at this meal? Definitely not! So perhaps not quite the hater of meat I presumed I was, maybe just the pan fried variety.
Quite often, especially in winter for tea, after watching the weekend footy roundup, we would toast bread in the lounge room on the fire that Dad had chopped the wood for and then lit a glorious blaze for us and we would have heated Heinz spaghetti and buttered toast!!
‘Memories are Made of This’
Seen those beautiful tins of Heinz Spaghetti? Well that would be tea, sitting and watching the latest news program and hopefully a Sunday night movie.
And of course that lovely brew of tea!
To the Pleasure of Tea and Memories of Meals around the Table!