Friends, I don't have to tell you just how seriously I take this rationing program.
I have about half of the handy dandy list memorized. We've dramatically reduced the amount of food waste in the kitchen. Our hand mixer has seen more use in the last month and a half than in the last five years.
And, apparently, I panic at the thought of a contraband can of soup.
You see, last Thursday night was a busy one in the Rational Living household. I wasn't off work until 5:00pm and we needed to be at the school for parent-teacher conferences by 5:50pm. There wasn't much time for dinner, but I chose an easy pasta dish that TMOTH could get a jump start on before I arrived home.
Not only did TMOTH get a jump start on dinner, he had it nearly finished by the time I walked in the door. In fact, as my foot crossed the threshold I beheld a view of him in the kitchen, happily at stove, pouring a can of cream of mushroom soup into the sauce pan.
The problem was, friends, that the ration-friendly recipe I was using didn't call for a can cream of mushroom soup.
PANIC!
PANIC!
The can of soup he was using was from our surplus stash in the basement, where I store items purchased on sale and then bring upstairs (and therefore purchase with ration points) when they become part of the menu.
This was a contraband can. A canned item, being infused into a meal, for which we did not pay ration points.
PANIC!
I stopped dead in my tracks. I stared at the can, as if that could make it go away.
I imagined Office of Price Administration spies kicking in the windows and doors and busting us for our transgression.
PANIC!
And then I caught my breath and sobered up. I decided that we wouldn't have the canned green beans that were scheduled to go along with the pasta dish.
I place the can of green beans in the basement stash.
And all was well once again.
Whew!
--Rational Mama
This was a contraband can. A canned item, being infused into a meal, for which we did not pay ration points.
PANIC!
I stopped dead in my tracks. I stared at the can, as if that could make it go away.
I imagined Office of Price Administration spies kicking in the windows and doors and busting us for our transgression.
PANIC!
And then I caught my breath and sobered up. I decided that we wouldn't have the canned green beans that were scheduled to go along with the pasta dish.
I place the can of green beans in the basement stash.
And all was well once again.
Whew!
--Rational Mama
I laugh only because my reaction would have been the same in your situation.
ReplyDeleteI am no stranger to irrational panic!
sent a note about your project to my grandma. she responded (in an e mail to her list of family) with this:
ReplyDeleteI was really amused about Baily's account of a friend at church who is living on WWII rationing for a year. Yes Bailey - I certainly do remember it, but I can honestly say that we didn't really suffer much because of it. My sister Gayle and I were living at home with our parents. Gayle had her 3 year old Linda and I was pregnant and like every one else we had a Victory garden. The city provided a plot several miles from the house and each evening many people would gather out there to tend their gardens. Since I was pretty big (Sue was born in August) I would sit on a stool and try to amuse Linda while my parents and Gayle worked in the garden. My sister and I would take turns going down to the Mairose Meat market each Wednesday, and stand in line with the rest of the women, waiting for the meat delivery to arrive. When it came, you didn't have much choice, you just bought whatever they had. My mother and I competed to see which of us would come up with the best dessert, considering we didn't have much sugar. We had some pretty good food and I found some really great sugarless recipes. Best of all, my dad was able to go on with his usual candy making at Christmas time. They had always given so much of it away and so many people really loved it and wanted it, so he had lots of sugar donated to him for his candy business.
Bailey - that's wonderful! Thanks so much for posting!
ReplyDelete