We spared no effort to keep living costs down at our ‘mini-frat’ house.
One day George was driving past the potato fields on the St. Paul campus. The potatoes had been harvested and stood in small piles. Someone was walking from pile to pile taking a potato from each pile.
“What are you doing with the potatoes?”, George asked.
“Sampling them for diseases.”
“What are you going to do with the rest of the potatoes?”
“Plow them back into the ground.”
“Mind if I take a few?”
“Are you a student?”
George came back to the house with 800 pounds of potatoes, which he put into the unused coal bin. About a third of them froze, but we had plenty to last us through the rest of the school year. Our typical evening meal, which was the only one we ate together, consisted of a portion of meat and vegetables for everyone, and a huge kettle of boiled potatoes. If our bellies weren’t full from the meat and vegetables, we had an unlimited supply of potatoes to satisfy our healthy appetites.
One weekend George went pheasant hunting with some friends. He shot a Canadian goose that happened to fly low over the field. George was from Connecticut. He didn’t know about duck stamps. Anyway, no game warden saw him.
My brother Doug plucked and dressed the goose and called up our aunts to find out how to cook it. He used their recipe for stuffing and spent one class-free day roasting that goose.
We banqueted on roast goose with all the trimmings that evening.
I shot a young deer to contribute to the pot.
Darrell Lauber had a target revolver and some CB-caps that he used for target practice in the basement. You could hardly hear these little loads fire. Great white hunter Darrell decided that we had too many rabbits in the neighborhood, so we started to have roast rabbit occasionally for dinner.
One day Darrell shot a rabbit that managed to crawl under the neighbor’s window before it died. As he reached out and grabbed the rabbit from behind a bush, he looked up and saw the neighbor staring down at him.
That was the end of our rabbit feasts.