When I was green and young, in, as I call them, my ‘potato-salad days’ – I never dreamed— (well, actually, all I did was dream, spending my time reading fantasy and sci-fi novels, writing songs about the ‘Curse of Imhotep’, counting clouds, and the like), I never ‘thought’, shall we say, that all the lacks in my youth would help to furnish me with all of the lacks in my adulthood.
Hot buttered toast with cold potato-salad upon it was not a rounded meal – bread ‘and’ potatoes!!!
But, it was quick, simple, cheap, nourishing? Well, maybe it wasn’t that nourishing, I can admit to that now.
It just ‘was’.
I’m not sure if I remember ever having folded the toast upon the potato-salad, but, I may have done. A toasted potato-salad sandwich? Potato-salad toasties?
Who can say if it was things like that that decided I was doomed from such an early age to be what I now am?
