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How They Spent Sunday

November 24, 2013


While living in Olgod, Danish feminist and novelist, Mathilde Fibiger, “sewed for the farmers, spent her Sundays at the clergyman’s, and maintained her independence.”


Jean Harlow “spent her Sundays having her ash-bIonde hair bleached platinum with a mixture of peroxide, ammonia, Clorox, and Lux flakes.”


In the late 1920s at the Cotton Club in New York, Sunday was a day that most other performers had the day off. So catching the last show on a Sunday night was a real treat for performers. You never knew who or what would happen on stage. That was when Duke Ellington and his orchestra got their start, backing unexpected appearances by the likes of Fred Astaire.


Emily Dickinson famously poeticised her practice of avoiding church on Sabbath–reclaiming that practice as an alternative to spirituality rather than a flight from it in her poem:

SOME keep the Sabbath going to church;
I keep it staying at home,
With a bobolink for a chorister,
And an orchard for a dome.

One letter of hers dramatizes how she spent her late childhood Sundays, arguing over the poetic niceties of creation with her brother:


How do you spend Sunday?

From → Archives

  1. I will spend it polishing my book, driving down from the mountains, and preparing for the holidays by starting my decorating. How about you?

  2. currankentucky permalink

    Mine was spent writing some of my current project, resting in between, lying on the floor to ease the pain and now I’m sitting on the couch watching pure gold sh** to fry my brains and ease the weary body. As for church, I meditated and am currently looking for Venus and the north star between fluffy clouds, O and earlier my eyes followed a hare in the garden. Sunday bliss to be replicated tomorrow and the day after if the body behaves!

    • Sounds relaxing–Oh, but don’t follow that hare whatever you do. I heard that first step down into his warren is a doozie.

      • currankentucky permalink

        Thanks for that tip, was just about to put my boots on, phew.

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