Only one meat, no cheesefairlyobscureNovember 14 2024, 18:15:06 UTC
Our rare cold cut suppers were a hot summer night thing. We'd have boiled ham, unless Virginia ham was cheaper. No cheese no other cold cuts. There would be lettuce onion and tomatoes, mustard and mayo, FRESH boiled corn, salt. and butter.
Our lunch or travel sandwiches were usually a single meat leftover- whatever we had had for dinner recently, or turkey from the freezer. No cheese. On white bread.
Sometimes had cold lamb sandwiches on white bread with yellow mustard. My mother was thrifty and didn't let food go to waste. She would eat chicken innards and chew on the neck bone. She would eat the wings of chickens and chew the bones and suck marrow. I thought taking the wings was self-sacrificing, but years later, when chicken wings became popular, I wondered if she pulled a Tom Sawyer on us. Some actress wrote an autobiography with several unwise things in it about her own life. She also criticized her mother for eating burnt toast instead of helping herself to fresh slices. Myself, I prefer slightly burnt toast- it makes the food more digestible ( as does yellow mustard). But. When I read that, I thought of her mother as managing the inventory of food. And the hassle of dragging kids who will each want something, out to a store, who will want her to spend more than the price of a loaf of bread. When I was a kid, a child could be sent many blocks for a loaf of bread or some other items or two, safely, but not considered safe anymore. Not to mention the long bag grocers put a loaf of bread in was likely to get squished in the many blocks walk home.
Re: Only one meat, no cheesedomiobrienNovember 14 2024, 18:33:35 UTC
Ham, beef summer sausage, capacolla, swiss cheese, peppered salami, roast beef, roast turkey, corned beef, hot German mustard, mayo, lettuce, tomato, onions, horseradish, rye bread, Italian white. Yellow mustard or Gulden'a spicy brown was for Oscar Mayer Hot Dogs. Dad wanted the same stuff his mother and Aunt got at NY delis. We only got pastami out at delis,to eat there, though. though, or restaurants when traveling. Potato salad or potato chips on the side. It is statistically much safer today for kids than it was when we were growing up. Do you remember when the man tried to talk you into his car at the bus stop in Newport News? You were wearing a St. Vincent's scarf and he claimed he taught there. You knew he wasn't one of the St. Vincent's teachers-- 1-12 were all one building-- and ran to a neighbor's. They called the police and mom.But urban legend says it's more dangerous. But most danger is from family, friends and close trusted associates, not strangers. When we were living in Vemont without Dad I used to get annoyed with mom for waiting until after dark to notice she was out of something and send me to the covenience store in the cold and dark instead of getting it the actual grocer during the day with you in your stroller or calling Lee at Claire's and asking him to pick it up on the way over since he was so often coming over for games in the evening. I wasn't afraid, but it was cold after dark in the winter. Clair didn't like Lee coming over and playing cards and games late with Mom because sometimes Mom kept him out too late when he had school in the morning.
Lots of fantasy therefairlyobscureNovember 14 2024, 20:46:00 UTC
So much of that is false.
Can't comment on early Claire.
My own mom kept me up way too late playing honeymoon bridge. I wouldn't hear the alarm for school in the morning. I was so tired. Grades lousy that year.
Never ran to neighbors . Guy was nice, didn't claim to work at school. Gave me a couple of first aid handouts which I put in my lunchbox and forgot. Took the bus to school. Mom freaked out that afternoon when she opened my lunchbox and called the cops.
Mothers are being arrested for letting 8 and 10 year olds walk half a mile or downtown. That's one danger. The other danger is other young people.
Re: Lots of fantasy theredomiobrienNovember 14 2024, 22:11:12 UTC
I got driven home by a police officer, released from school, in the morning, because you were home, as was Dad, and detectives, because some guy tried to get you into his car. Mom was freaking out. But you absolutely named the St. Vincent's male teachers and that it was none of them and he claimed to teach there. It's a really old record, but certainly in the files. Cold cases older than this get solved all the time.
A man filling his gas tank at the flying A offered me a ride. I declined. He gave me first aid charts which I put in my lunch box. I took the bus to school. When I got home my mother asked about them. I told her. She called the police. Two young officers came and asked questions. They seemed to dismiss it, as did I. It was a nothingburger. Being a creative person, I expect you add to stories over time.
I am used to gaslighters and am secure in my memories, which do not rely on language.
That's where the flying A was. fairlyobscureNovember 15 2024, 09:52:27 UTC
That was the bus stop half a block from my home on Huntington.
I had no reason to known high school teachers when I was eight.
I heard the criticisms of the HS Latin and French teachers, but didn't know them. Perhaps they were nuns. Didn't know HS teachers. I DID resolve not to take those languages when I was eight.
Re: That's where the flying A was. domiobrienNovember 15 2024, 10:07:32 UTC
6912 Huntington Ave? Now, that's interesting, because what I remembered was a plainclothes detective with a bunch of photos he was showing you at 315 58th St. Strange. It's interesting to look at pictures online of houses we lived in. (and ones they lived in, after we'd left). They never seemed content anywhere. And Mom was always convinced something awful was about to happen any time.
No, the young cops didn't show me any pix. No detectives. No 58th street. When asked about the car, I said it looked like Mr Goldberg's. I didn't know kinds of cars at that time, except one's we had had and neighbors' cars.
Re: Lots of fantasy theredomiobrienNovember 15 2024, 10:10:59 UTC
Mom was a nightowl. I was as a kid, but I think she trained me that way, to stay up with her, eating and playing cards in the middle of the night. And then when she went to work nights when I was in high school and college I was still on that pattern.
Our lunch or travel sandwiches were usually a single meat leftover- whatever we had had for dinner recently, or turkey from the freezer. No cheese. On white bread.
Sometimes had cold lamb sandwiches on white bread with yellow mustard.
My mother was thrifty and didn't let food go to waste.
She would eat chicken innards and chew on the neck bone.
She would eat the wings of chickens and chew the bones and suck marrow.
I thought taking the wings was self-sacrificing, but years later, when chicken wings became popular, I wondered if she pulled a Tom Sawyer on us.
Some actress wrote an autobiography with several unwise things in it about her own life. She also criticized her mother for eating burnt toast instead of helping herself to fresh slices.
Myself, I prefer slightly burnt toast- it makes the food more digestible ( as does yellow mustard).
But. When I read that, I thought of her mother as managing the inventory of food. And the hassle of dragging kids who will each want something, out to a store, who will want her to spend more than the price of a loaf of bread.
When I was a kid, a child could be sent many blocks for a loaf of bread or some other items or two, safely, but not considered safe anymore.
Not to mention the long bag grocers put a loaf of bread in was likely to get squished in the many blocks walk home.
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It is statistically much safer today for kids than it was when we were growing up. Do you remember when the man tried to talk you into his car at the bus stop in Newport News? You were wearing a St. Vincent's scarf and he claimed he taught there. You knew he wasn't one of the St. Vincent's teachers-- 1-12 were all one building-- and ran to a neighbor's. They called the police and mom.But urban legend says it's more dangerous. But most danger is from family, friends and close trusted associates, not strangers.
When we were living in Vemont without Dad I used to get annoyed with mom for waiting until after dark to notice she was out of something and send me to the covenience store in the cold and dark instead of getting it the actual grocer during the day with you in your stroller or calling Lee at Claire's and asking him to pick it up on the way over since he was so often coming over for games in the evening. I wasn't afraid, but it was cold after dark in the winter. Clair didn't like Lee coming over and playing cards and games late with Mom because sometimes Mom kept him out too late when he had school in the morning.
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Can't comment on early Claire.
My own mom kept me up way too late playing honeymoon bridge. I wouldn't hear the alarm for school in the morning. I was so tired. Grades lousy that year.
Never ran to neighbors . Guy was nice, didn't claim to work at school. Gave me a couple of first aid handouts which I put in my lunchbox and forgot. Took the bus to school. Mom freaked out that afternoon when she opened my lunchbox and called the cops.
Mothers are being arrested for letting 8 and 10 year olds walk half a mile or downtown.
That's one danger. The other danger is other young people.
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It was a nothingburger.
Being a creative person, I expect you add to stories over time.
I am used to gaslighters and am secure in my memories, which do not rely on language.
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I had no reason to known high school teachers when I was eight.
I heard the criticisms of the HS Latin and French teachers, but didn't know them. Perhaps they were nuns. Didn't know HS teachers.
I DID resolve not to take those languages when I was eight.
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It's interesting to look at pictures online of houses we lived in. (and ones they lived in, after we'd left). They never seemed content anywhere.
And Mom was always convinced something awful was about to happen any time.
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When asked about the car, I said it looked like Mr Goldberg's. I didn't know kinds of cars at that time, except one's we had had and neighbors' cars.
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If you had some at St Vincents HS, they were probably priests, but I never met high school teachers.
I was at the flying A at 70th and Warwick Blvd. No other people at the bus stop.
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