Salt - I have always liked salt on my food; it just seems to bring out the flavor of whatever I've put it on. In my early days, I used much more salt than almost everyone else I ever knew. Over the years I have met a couple people who used as much salt and, like me, had cut back. But, on to the experiment - to this day, the thought of actually doing this sents shivers up and down my spine.

I ate a few spoonsful of salt like you might eat sugar. I certainly got results: my stomach gave up all it had and tried to give more. I had an awful feeling it my stomach....it quivered....my throat and mouth burned. When Mom hear the noises I was making, she rushed into the kitchen and screamed, not knowing what I had just done and thinking something was terribly wrong with me.

I couldn't talk. I was too weak and was still continuing with the immediate results of the experiment. My sister, Rosalie, told her what I had done. I drank a lot of water and rinsed out my mouth. Once I was back to normal, Mom administered the intermediate result of the experiment. The final result was that I never ate that much salt that way again.

One of my favorite things to eat was heavily buttered toast with enough salt sprinkled on it so that it looked like a sweet bun with a heavy coating of powered sugar. I finally cut back the amount of salt sometime in my late 20s or early 30s.

About the butter thing, one of the tales told to me by Mom and Dad was about the time, while I was still in diapers, that they found me sitting on the floor in front of the icebox (yes, icebox - it was in the early 1930s) with butter smeared all over me and both hands full wearing a great big buttery smile. I was having a good time eating butter and making a big mess. They weren't sure but they thought that I had eaten about a half pound of it. They had a big laugh, cleaned up the mess and gave me a bath. I was too little for a spanking; I wouldn't have been able to understand what it meant. There were no bad results from eating that much and I still love butter.

A PEA - I mention this one because of a later happening.

For some unknown reason, one day I managed to stick a dried pea into my ear. What I remember is that I had a pea in my ear (which I had put there myself) and my ear was hurting. Possibly, the pea was absorbing some moisture from my ear and starting to swell. Mom managed to get it out by using a rubber ear syringe, water and a pair of tweezers. If you think I got a spanking for this, you're correct.

Years later, my sister Catherine told her two sons, still very young, about the pea. Upon hearing this tale, one of her sons, Jake, asked, "Why did Uncle John pee in his ear?"

In case you're wondering, I do not like peas and never have.

©Copywrite July 2001; ALL Rights Reserved