But that rumor was only circulated after a pic of her at a night club together got out.But this list can actually be confirmed so the number is odd.
When I went home to Connecticut for the school year, our menu was more sophisticated.
Breakfast was Corn Flakes, varied by Wheaties, Cheerios, and Rice Krispies.
Sometimes we ate a slice of fried Spam, sometimes sardines. In spring she served fresh parsnips, planted the summer before and harvested when snow melted. Berries became jellies and jams, as cider became vinegar.
(I puked in the outhouse.) Weekly a butcher parked his truck by the front door and displayed his goods to my grandmother. (A cruet on the dining room table protected us from scurvy.) Three meals a day at least one pie with an undercooked crust sat on the table.
Milk arrived every morning from the horse cart of my family’s Brock-Hall Dairy, delivered to back doors by milkmen who later became route salesman. Butter, onions, and hamburger stirred together with depraved pseudo-Italian spaghetti had nothing to do with chop suey.