Every Sunday we would visit my Grandparents house for a Sunday roast. The meal would consist of Scotch Broth soup, roast chicken (and assorted roast vegetables) and finished off with apple crumble, which we affectionately knew as “Scrumpchy”. Following this, my grandfather –a retired minister with fluent Gaelic tongue- would do his best to fall asleep in his armchair in the sunroom listening to acapella Gaelic church chanting (a quite haunting sound), while my father and I would hide in my grandfather’s study watching the Italian football leagues on Football Italia.
However, the best was yet to come. Once my grandmother had finished the washing up, she would delve into her purse to see what pennies she had for us. Usually this would produce around 50 whole pennies for us to walk down to the local Mace convenience shop where we would get all manner of goodies in those days. I remember buying mixed bags of sweetie, fake candy cigarettes, Hubba Bubba chewing gum and a fizzy juice drink. Not only would I come away with a huge loot of sugary goodness, I would normally come away with change as well. By the time we arrived home, I was able to join in on the dying embers of a football game going on in my local village... Sunday’s weren’t half bad when I was growing up!