I've been thinking about this idea of a 'time for reflection'. Sunday was always Row Day when I was growing up - on Saturday we did stuff, separately or together, but on Sunday we were all stuck together and by tea time the cracks had become chasms and dinner was eaten in silence following a slanging match.
Time for reflection is just about impossible when stuck at home with a moody teenager or tetchy grandparent. Even now most Sundays for me are an endless round of uniform washing, homework supervision and hair washing interspersed with the odd bit of sport on the TV, but there are things we can go and do if we can grab a moment. We don't end up with stuff, but memories - gardening, walking the dog - but sometimes we need to get away and escape and that involves a degree of work - staff at the gardens, staff in the pub.
I carve out my time for reflection - in the evenings before sleep, first thing in the morning when the house is quiet, even zoning out the TV to write in my journal. The one thing I can guarantee is that I won't get the luxury of a 'day of reflection' on a Sunday regardless of what is and isn't open and I strongly suspect few mothers of school aged children do.