Sunday is family day. The day where we, the four of us, spend an hour longer than is needed to get out of the house. If we say we will leave by 10am, you can guarantee we are still arguing over coats, jumpers and wellington boots on our driveway at 11am.
Should we make a packed lunch, we ask ourselves. Should we spend another hour debating what should go in the sandwiches, more like. No! Let us leave and spend a king’s ransom on a meal for four. A box of food the kids will never eat.
Our main aim on a Sunday is to get out in to the open spaces provided by one of the many cards in our wallets or purses. RHS this, National Trust that. As a city boy, I love the fact that we are members of societies and associations that let us explore the grounds of a fancy house, a planted border – without worrying about the fact that we are more than 800 meters away from a decent internet connection.
The best thing about those adventures are – exercise and family bonding aside – the rewards that we find we “need” to bring our energy levels back up, after the long walks at our chosen locations. If we go to RHS Harlow Carr then we have the Florentines (pictured above) of Betty’s (though I prefer a Medici myself), or the jelly beans and fudge of the National Trust at Brimham Rocks. Sure the kids get out, in to the fresh air – climbing across man made and natural obstacles – but the promise of a sugary treat is enough to get us out from behind our screens and into the “wild”.
Just try not to worry about how much money all of this is setting you back; though I know we are lucky to think this way. The membership fees, the cost of a cup of coffee – even the price of a slice of cake. We’ll never make it back, but if we pay our monthly fee to the RHS, the National Trust and even Harewood House – which is pronounced Harwood we are told – we know that for one day a week, our family have a day away from YouTube; away from the mounting housework we leave behind.
I love our Sundays together; they really are priceless.