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Sunday, 23 March 2014

Today was the day that I rediscovered Sunday and I have to report that I rather enjoyed it. It was almost as if I had forgotten what it was like to enjoy the day of rest, having worked harder on a Sunday than the other six days of the week for quite a while. As I said last week, The Sunday Alternative isn’t dead and buried by any means, but it probably won’t be appearing on Trent Sound again. Then again, never say never. On the other hand, the show has always been a BBC 6Music show at heart, so maybe the network will finally wake up and allow the show to appear in its natural and spiritual home.

When the show switched to lunchtimes I was really pleased because it meant a slight change of direction, only a slight one. As much as I enjoyed the idea of people listening to a radio show while sitting around the family dinner table, on the other side of that is someone who is working on a Sunday (and not getting double time for it like everyone else) and arrives at the family Sunday dinner when everyone else is on the coffee and newspapers stage. Today was the first time in weeks that I was able to join in and it was lovely to have that back. Of course if another radio opportunity came along I’d snap it up in a flash, Sunday lunch or no Sunday lunch, but for the time being it is nice to be able to join in again round at my dad’s at the same time as everyone else.

Another thing that we haven’t done for ages, in fact I can’t remember the last time we did it even though I could quite easily go through my blog and say for sure but that would be cheating, is go for afternoon tea in Lee Rosy’s on a Sunday afternoon. The thing about Lee Rosy’s is that it is always freakishly full and it is therefore difficult to get a table. It used to be a place for creative people to hang out but they have started letting ordinary members of the public in, or Nottingham has more writers, filmmakers, artists, and musicians than it used to. We couldn’t get a table, even me with my Sunday afternoon radio, oh. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t get in? Maybe in Lee Rosy’s manifesto, a radio show in America doesn’t count, it has to be in this country and by dumping my two English shows in one week I have been blacklisted. Or maybe we couldn’t get a table simply because it was full and we should have got there sooner.

When Hartley’s opened just up the road from Lee Rosy’s, it was only ever used as a place to go when Lee Rosy’s was full. I even suggested it as an advertising slogan along the same lines as Pepsi; when they don’t have Coke. We started going straight to Hartley’s after a while and not even bothering to check Lee Rosy’s seating availability, and grew to love the place. The owners are a lovely couple of people who care a great deal about the Hockley community, and so deserve for Hartley’s to be recognised on its own merits and not just as an annex of a shop up the road. As time wore on we forgot about Lee Rosy’s altogether, safe in the knowledge that after so long away we would have to sit in the basement now that we had slipped far enough down the ladder to never be able to sit in the window again. Mandi and I became full time members of Team Hartley’s, slightly cosier than Lee Rosy’s with less of the hipster element, and with bacon cobs.

I’m not sure who suggested it, but the idea of going to Lee Rosy’s was on the table today. I picked it up off the table with my wallet, phone, keys, and fags, and away we went.

It was full, so we went to Hartley’s.
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