Eggs for supper. Let me explain: Dad could not stand eggs in any form. Didn't even want us to eat them when he was around. Result of the smell of powdered eggs in the jungles of WW II. When Dad would work a double shift at DuPonts, Mom would break out the eggs and we'd have a feast. I miss them both so much.
Mom was absolutely forbidden from bringing Spam into the house. Dad ate so much of it in Europe during WWIi that he never wanted to see another can of it as long as he lived. Mom worked with a very meager budget for buying food, and always lamented the fact that she couldn't on occasion use a can of Spam, especially when all the venison and other wild game had been eaten up. June and July meals were very interesting
if we weren't catching a lot of fish. September brought the opening of squirrel season, and fresh meat for the table again.
