Texas1941
Member
My mother grew up on a farm in East Texas during the Depression. By most standards, they were dirt poor, but that's a relative thing. Her father was a pretty fair farmer and they always had enough to eat. On Sundays they always had a crowd of neighbors to dinner. For some of those folks, it was the only square meal they got in the week. Those as had a little something, brought it.
One Sunday, an old lady who was a regular brought a big bowl of "stew". My mother, being ten years old and having big ears, knew what was in it. When the bowl got to her, she passed it directly to her father, "Here Daddy, have some stew". Well that put old Silas on the spot, so he took a big helping. A couple of spoonfulls later he realized he was eating Hoover Hog (armadillo).
Fifty years later, the old man still held a hateful grudge over that bowl of "stew".
One Sunday, an old lady who was a regular brought a big bowl of "stew". My mother, being ten years old and having big ears, knew what was in it. When the bowl got to her, she passed it directly to her father, "Here Daddy, have some stew". Well that put old Silas on the spot, so he took a big helping. A couple of spoonfulls later he realized he was eating Hoover Hog (armadillo).
Fifty years later, the old man still held a hateful grudge over that bowl of "stew".