Quote:
Originally Posted by Urbane Guerrilla
Ya shoulda had something happen to you like what happened to a maternal ancestor of mine. George Austin Corey of Massachusetts fought in the Civil War, got captured by the Confederates at Cold Harbor, I think, and did six months in Andersonville.
He survived, though down to skin and bone. Let's just say the experience thoroughly affected Grandpa Corey's attitude about leftovers. It's family lore that he never allowed food to be thrown out for the rest of his days: "Leave it there, I'll eat it for breakfast," he'd insist. And he would.
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I actually wouldn't wish that experience on my worst enemy.
However, a fun fact; when I was young my mother left my teenage sisters behind and took me to another state to avoid custody issues with my father. She was an alcoholic, absent much of the time, and didn't do much to provide me with food; I went hungry a lot and as a result became quite underweight and malnourished. My body still shows the scars of malnutrition if you know what to look for, and I was very ashamed of them for a long time.
Needless to say, during that time I was completely happy to eat whatever I could get, including half-eaten leftovers from strangers' plates, which my mother would bring home sometimes after the bar closed at the restaurant where she worked. I also learned to garden and forage quite successfully, and sometimes weeks would go by when I ate only what I grew, picked, or fished for, or what the charity of neighbors provided. I'm far from a picky eater.
Now, I do pretty well and can feed myself and my kids, but I'm a little weird about food, which is at times exacerbated by my OCD.