Everything I Know Comes from a Song

Father Abraham had seven sons.  That's what I thought, that's what the song says.  It's not a song you sing while sober, so maybe I've miscounted.

Today, I learnt that he only had two, Ishmael and Isaac and that one of the sons founded Judaism and the other the Islamic religion, so far from being the father of seven sons he was in fact the father of at least seven, if not more, religions.  

One of the great things about working with teachers is the quality of conversation in the staff room.  Following on from the bombshell that Abraham only had two sons the conversation quickly moved through religion in general, to how important going to church on Sunday was and ended with a discussion on how life has changed that made me feel ancient.

When I (and only one other member of staff) was young nothing was open on a Sunday and so going to Church was something to do.  When I visited my grandparents I loved going to their church with them.  I don't think they had a TV (or if they did it was never on) and I wasn't allowed to play out. So, by 10am Sunday morning I was climbing the walls with boredom and church was a brilliant diversion.  Although, I loved my grandparent's church.  It was a high Church with bells, whistles, incense, bits of cardboard on the tongue, a sip of wine and great songs. After Church they would take me to visit relatives that I didn't know.  My favourites were the Erps - just because it was such a great name. The Erps grew cucumbers, to which I was addicted.  I am lucky to be alive because my grandad was the worst driver in the history of drivers ever and I was always terrified.  There were no car seats or seat belts and they would always get an extra cucumber because to calm my anxieties about the journey I would eat a whole one on the way home.  An afternoon of knitting, singing and story telling followed.

At home, I went to Sunday school because my friends were the vicar's children and it was the only way I got to play with them on a Sunday and the songs were great.  We sang everything from Jesus Hands to This Little Light of Mine to the Wombling Song.

Other member's of staff couldn't imagine what it would be like if nothing was open on a Sunday.  After a while the local newsagents opened in the morning so you could get the Sunday paper.  I remember old money and taking pop bottle back to the shop and being allowed to keep the 3d you got back for the bottle. 3d bought you a lot of shrimps, foam bananas and black jacks. We were allowed to walk to the shop on our own (from a very young age).  My sister was brought back from the shop in tears because she had walked up and asked for sweets and then got upset because they wanted money for them.

Sunday afternoon was the worst.  There were no distractions.  There might have been a grainy black and white film (a good day if it was a musical) on the TV and my parents always slept.  Thinking about it now, it was probably the three bottles of wine, large Sunday roast, and home-made apple pie.  Counting the cloves in the apple pie to see if you were going to marry a tinker, tailor, solider or sailor was a highlight of the day.  Especially if you got to marry a soldier who was a rich man, you dressed in satin and the wedding was going to be sometime.  I always liked sometime, it was so mysterious.

Then it was Ski Sunday, Songs of Praise, Egg on Toast, a bit of cake and bath night.

Oh we knew how to live.