Well around here with everyone working long hours all week,the weekends are the only time they can work on their properties. Weekdays are always quieter with all the kids in school and their parents at work.

That's an excellent question, anneliese. In my time, Sunday was a time of rest, family and church. Times have changed.
I think mwoods hit one point, in that people are working all week so they take of their properties on the weekends.
Other people are of different cultures and Sunday is not the day of rest, family or church.
Also, these days, people may have to work more than one or two jobs just to get along, no matter what day it is.

I don't think Sunday has changed. We have changed. Steve S.

I'm nodding in agreement with everyone, and then saw Steve's comment. First I thought, so true, and then I thought, no, not true at all. People are just as they always were, but there are more of them, and more of them are closer to us.

I can remember 60 years ago, we'd go to early church and then rush home to get the lawn mowed before it rained because the rest of the week everyone worked dawn to dusk (sometimes one job, sometimes two). Of course, the animals and fowl had to be fed and their areas cleaned (anyone who thinks that isn't work, hasn't done it seven days a week, every week). And I remember hearing kids hotrodding -- although they were a mile or more away, there wasn't today's noise pollution to hide the roaring motors and screeching tires. And yes, there would be times when we could hear shouting, although it was more likely to be the bad-tempered drunk who lived to the west of us than the guy to the south who had a couple contrary mules. We had all the non-traditional Sunday noises that one can hear today.

I think maybe a lot of our memories of quiet, peaceful day-of-rest Sundays are closely related to our memories of Santa Claus: possibly existing in spirit but definitely not in reality -- because someone else was doing all the work while *we* rested.

I agree with you Meldy,completely. We went to church on Sundays,had Sunday dinner with the family,usually a little earlier than usual but the rest of the day was busy as heck.We never just sat there and rested.

meldy, I was struck by your comment " because someone else was doing all the work while *we* rested."
I'm a city girl, and I don't have much experience with farm life, but I see that work needs to be done 24/7.

I remember Sundays as a day of rest. My parents went to church, then home to cook dinner and then off to the family car for a ride. And maybe a visit to aunts & uncles or other family. Dad never worked on sunday.

And now we (husband & me) just relax on sundays. And in my neiborhood no one works on sundays. Its quiet saturdays also.

I've pretty much grown up where all of my family lives, and have gone to church with them. After church, we'd all end up at my grandparents house. GranMrs would cook and we'd all eat lunch. It was a big affair, no matter if it was my friend Peggy, my fiance Randy, or.... whoever was around, ate with us. Then, we'd all sit around and talk. It was always a good time. After dessert, we'd move into the parlor or out on the porch to swing and talk and laugh some more. In our younger days, my younger sister and I would play badmitton. Good times. I don't now because Gran and Stan are gone, mom has her house to tend to, and I have mine. My upstairs neighbors, Sunday is their "busiest day", their words. He plays a musical instrument at church, both in the morning and in the evening, so it's a swinging door and cars up and down the drive. Things change, but I don't think it's worse. Evenings are pretty quiet after work. Most neighbors walk or ride bikes, stopping to talk along the way. It's good.

When I was young, the stores were closed on Sunday. In spring and summer the family, at least mother and the aunts, her sisters, would often take us to the Zoo or the Botanical Gardens, both had very nice Cafes and there usually was music, classical or light classical, everyone wore nice clothes, hats and gloves, even the children.
We had torte or petit fours and coffee au lait.
Or we would visit Tante Elsa, Mama's oldest sister, who lived in a village outside of Frankfurt. We'd have home-made fruit-tarts or apple-cake or prune-cake (yum!) and drink Raspberry syrup thinned out with Seltzer water,
our version of Soda Pop.

A memory triggered by liod's post about "Raspberry syrup". I hope I write this well enough so I don't offend anyone.

From time to time our family would go visit an uncle on a Sunday afternoon. He lived by a field full of dandelions. The grown-ups were served dandelion "Soda Pop" and the children were served plain Seltzer water.
I found out years later, that he was making wine and it was a ritual to visit him certain times of the year.

Sundays are very different today than they were when I was young, and it isn't just selective memory of old age. Before I was an adult, it was not the norm for women who had children to work so they often set up Sundays as a day for family. It was not the norm to have jobs where the adult children lived past commuting distance from relatives. It was also not the norm for employment to lap over into Sunday, unless you were a firefighter, nurse, peace officer or worked in a restaurant. It was not the norm to have food markets open, or retail stores. And, there were no 'convenience' stores. If you needed something in an emergency, you visited the person who lived next door and 'borrowed' it. You could, however, call your doctor at home, or your druggists, and in a pinch they'd open up for you or drop by your house.

Until I was an older teenager, power equipment wasn't all that common in residential areas, either where the grass was still being mown with mechanical push-mowers. The clackety clack wasn't all that intrusive and even then many folks were frowned upon if they did it on a Sunday. My mother never hung clothes on the line on Sunday, either. And she wouldn't pick up a needle or thread for any reason, and if she had to.....would wait until Midnight so it wasn't done on the Sabbath. I always defended sewing for pleasure, because it wasn't work but enjoyment. I still got chided.

I don't remember Sundays at any of my relatives, but it was a rite to do a huge meal at our house and anyone who wished was invited and it happened often. My mother kept up this tradition as long as she was able to stand up to the stove, and when I was able I alternated weekends with her. Therefore Sundays were not days of rest for women, who did the cooking or teenagers who did the dishes. LOL. But, my husband whose family were rich with clergy spent EVERY Sunday after church at his grandparents, one or the other along with all the rest of his parent's siblings and their families. It had to be a zoo. A happy one, but not exactly peaceful. And my first husband was a farmer's child and everyone fed/gathered/milked and put out to pasture before we climbed in the 'machine' and went to mass. It was the women and kids, however, who milked again, brought in from pasture and dealt with the big meal. The men sat at the stove in winter or on the porch in summer and felt it was proper.

The only time our family didn't do the big Sunday meal was when we decided to do a pleasure trip or drive. One or the other. And to the day my parents died.....they found noise and commotion on Sundays un-pleasurable enough to grumble about. And, I know your mileage will vary depending on where you were raised, when and by whom. ;-)