Ah, I love that Sunday feeling; after a long week at work, a crazy Friday night out, Saturday spent shopping and then the good old Sunday day of rest comes along. A day of doing as little as possible and just letting it all hang out as it were. The traditional Sunday in my house when I was growing up was all about the family being together and the little rituals that went with whole day. I'd be packed off to Sunday school for the morning and upon my return, the seductive smells of the roast dinner would be well under way and the day would really begin.
Whilst I played, the familiar smells of roasting lamb would come wafting through the house making my belly rumble, the sweet smell of mint sauce making my mouth water. The kitchen windows all steamed up from boiling potatoes and steamed vegetables; hinting at the cold of the autumn day outside, and I'm just waiting for the call to lay the table, the sign that the family feasting was imminent. Out comes the table cloth in thick red linen, then the coiled straw place mats. It'd carefully polish the cutlery and get out the special cut crystal glasses from the display cabinet and put each bit in its place. Sometimes I'd even go and collect some ivy and make a little centrepiece from the table. Our Sunday dinners really were like a mini Christmas when I look back.
After the inevitable eating until I was fit to burst, it would be slouch in front of the telly watching an old western, Bonanza or Lassie, or the occasional heart tugging Disney family film. This is way back in the day when three channels were the norm and the national anthem was still played at the close of broadcasting, sometime around midnight. Once digested, it would be out for an obligatory family walk, across the fields and into the woods; my favourite when the air was cold and the ground crisp. Then back home for roast dinner sandwiches in front of the Antiques Roadshow and Wildlife on One with the ever soothing voice of Sir David Attenborough. Those really were the days my friend.
Now I'm all grown up and have a home of my own with my own routine, but I can see it is still based on those hazy days of childhood innocence. Sunday is still my day of rest, although I forego the religion and replace it with a well deserved lie in. I have also swapped the playing for beer it seems, but surely that is just a grown up way of playing anyway. The family I have around me for the day are actually my friends, but I still get someone else to cook the food and I still get my quota of good old Davey Attenborough.
I now make my weekly trip for Sunday satisfaction down to the local pub where a carvery is laid on; and it has the same capability for making my belly rumble and my mouth water just the way that my mother's cooking used to. It is eat as much as you like, so I still get to feed my seemingly insatiable taste buds until I think my belly will pop. Walking in and seeing the chefs in their whites, behind the gleaming carvery equipment and all ready for service has the same affect of preparing the table back at home. Dinner really will be soon, and my mouth begins to water. After a few lazy ales, it is back to mine for some sofa snacking watching the latest instalment on Nat Geo, and the day, once again, is perfect and complete.
Something Always Brings Me Back To You Lyrics
An article From the Antelope Valley Press on Friday, February 2, 2007, with the following headline: "Theft not Enough for Burglars, Perpetrators Stuff Chihuahua in Freezer, Urinate on Clothes", brought back memories of things long past I'd rather forget but probably never will and it is the reason why I am writing this.
In my youth I discovered that burglars/trespassers had made themselves at home in my grandfather's house while he was traveling. Apart from ransacking the house, slaughtering chickens and leaving the entrails, feathers etc. all over, they put glasses onto every surface in the house and filled them with urine so that whoever moved them, had to spill pee all over everything.
Burglars who broke into my home in Austin, Texas not only stole everything of value, they also defecated onto the floor in the bedroom, stepped into it and got it all over the house, and smeared it on the walls and furniture, even the baby's crib.
For any normal person and I mean normal compared to totally depraved, it seems not possible to understand why anybody would do such a thing. Actually, I can see why someone would steal, they want things. I can also see, not to be confused with understand, putting the dog into the freezer, he might have barked and got into their way. What I can absolutely not see, understand or comprehend is urinating on the clothes, messing up the victim's home or what ever else these sick minds came up with.
The worst part in all this is, that these criminals steal a lot more and something much more precious than just things, they steal peace of mind. One can never feel quite as carefree as before and will always remember with an uneasy feeling and lingering fear. Especially because of causing those feelings and for stealing the peace of mind in another human being every perpetrator should get punished not just for the burglary but also, and to a greater degree, for robbing the victims peace of mind.
So far I have talked only about burglaries. How much worse is the effect on the victim in the case of murder, child molestation, rape and other violent crimes? Not only on the victim, the whole family, sometimes whole communities will suffer for the rest of their lives. Here just one example.
My friend's daughter, a bright, happy girl, a freshman at Pepperdine University in California was raped half way through her second semester. From then on she skipped most classes, hiding in her darkened room. She did not tell anybody what had happened to her until much later, after a suicide attempt. It has been years and she still suffers from depression and she never did finish her degree. All the time she suffers, her family suffers and even we, her friends suffer when we see how this whole family's life has been altered, if not destroyed.
Should the perpetrators not be punished for that even more than for their original deed?
When will society wake up to the fact that the effects of crimes on the victim and their circle of influence are much worse, certainly longer lasting, than the crimes themselves?
Anybody who has ever been a victim will have to agree with me and everybody who is for real justice should demand that our courts take into consideration what emotional damage crimes cause and that they hand out punishment accordingly.
Sadly, judges, lawyers, psychologists, ACLU, bleeding hearts and other organizations seem much more interested in the criminals' emotional past and his rights rather than the emotional future and rights of the victims. I say, it is time to reverse that trend. High time!
Both Dominic Donaldson & Elisabeth Mcgill are contributors for EditorialToday. The above articles have been edited for relevancy and timeliness. All write-ups, reviews, tips and guides published by EditorialToday.com and its partners or affiliates are for informational purposes only. They should not be used for any legal or any other type of advice. We do not endorse any author, contributor, writer or article posted by our team.
Dominic Donaldson has sinced written about articles on various topics from Cars, Touring Italy and Environment. Dominic Donaldson is an expert in the catering industry.Find out more about and other commercial k. Dominic Donaldson's top article generates over 368000 views. to your Favourites.
Elisabeth Mcgill has sinced written about articles on various topics from Real Estate, Family and Pets. Antelope Valley Press past articlesDefending victim's rights but not extra punishm. Elisabeth Mcgill's top article generates over 2900 views. to your Favourites.
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