Nostalgia is wonderful at making the past seem glorious even if potentially, it was less than at the time. We remember Tizer tasting like Tizer, six feet of chocolate covering a Wagon Wheel, and the summers – they went on for a decade!

One memory I have from my childhood was the reverence and love, of and for,  the Sunday lunch. A time when we would gather as a family around the table – my grandparents, my aunt and uncle, my parents and of course myself. All of us enjoying a meal which had filled our nostrils for hours and then us as a family interacting; sharing our news and points of view. Three generations as one. This was such a special time yet it was the norm back then. As is most things that are unappreciated – never really important until lost.

What has I think inspired me to write this post is the sight that often greets me at around midday on a Sunday when I am travelling home from officiating at a worship service on the Gower. As I pass Trostre Retail Park I notice the amount of family-packed cars queueing at the local McDonalds.

I know our modern world moves at a greater pace than years gone by; I appreciate that my mother came from a generation where few of her peers ventured out into the world to work, merely stayed at home and did a 16 hour shift, 7 days a week and 52 weeks of the year. I think what I am trying to say is summed by defining how a 3 word phrase is thought of by me and my generation, versus how the later generations will remember.

As I child, on a Sunday,  I really enjoyed having “a happy meal“!