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Is spaghetti on toast an Australian custom?

When I was young Dad said, "They pay me peanuts!"
"Why don't you ever give us some?" I whined.

Tuesday night was pot roast; our meat for the week.

Wednesday night it was bread and gravy. The gravy from last night.

We were not poor, in fact, we were fairly well off in the neighborhood. We had a refrigerator; many still had to put out the "ICE" sign. We had indoor plumbing, but to be fair, more than half did. We had fields to run around in and play in. A public pool a block away. The walk to grade school was only three blocks. Mail delivery twice a day; if you put it in a mailbox in the morning, an in-town addressee might well see it in the afternoon delivery. Our black lab would take a nap in the middle of the road and people would drive around him.

Funny what sparks nostalgia when you're 75.

Wednesday night it was bread and gravy. The gravy from last night. Canned pasta? Not in our house; every single thing was homemade including soup and pickles.
 
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