Dear Folks, While continuing to edit the stories I've written, especially about my Navy days, I was reminded of another chow hall story. It was back in the mid 1950s shortly after I had gone on active duty. Prior to that I had been living on very little money which was under $75 a month. However, I still managed to pay the rent in the small furnished apartment I had in Niagara Falls and pay the utility bills. What was left over was for food. Obviously I didn't treat myself to anything but plain food. Nonetheless I got by and didn't complain. When I went on active duty, all that changed. I didn't have to pay for housing and I didn't have to pay for food. And now we come to the subject of food. I ate three meals a day in the chow hall and I was overwhelmed with the selection of food and the amount of it on my metal tray. However, after the first month or so, I began to realize that I was rapidly gaining weight and that I'd have to put myself on a diet. Trust me, it wasn't an easy thing to do in the chow hall. The mess cooks were used to filling up trays with enough food to feed the biggest appetites of the men. However, I tried my best to convince the mess cooks to give me smaller portions. I swear though, that they had never been taught the meaning of "smaller portions" and even though they tried their best, I still ended up with the same amount of food on my tray. It got to the point where I felt that I'd have to request something more descriptive. Instead of smaller portions, I asked them to serve me a teensy weensy portion and then I'd show them with my hands just how small a teensy weensy portion was. It took them awhile to figure that out but eventually they learned. It also took them awhile to getting used to my breakfast request of only one pancake instead of three. Oh that one was really tough for them to comprehend but eventually they adjusted. Eventually, I was pleased that the mess cooks recognized me when I came through the chow line (after all I was the only WAVE who ate there). They all knew that I wanted teensy weensy portions and more than that, I finally taught them what my favorite breakfast was. ONE pancake put on my tray and over that ONE fried egg sunny side up. That with a couple pats of butter and a small amount of syrup was to die for--and still is. After the training of mess cooks worked, I lost all my excess pounds and it was quite easy to keep my weight down. However, I guess I didn't know everything about calories. One day at lunch I noticed a chilled tray of slices of green things. I didn't know what they were but if they were green they couldn't possibly have many calories. I took a few bites and they were so delicious that I went back for seconds and possibly thirds. I asked the sailor next to me what they were and he told me they were avocados. Considering that Oakland, CA, wasn't all that far from the avocado capital of the country near Fresno, those avocados were ripe before they were picked and shipped. However, when I checked my calorie booklet, I realized that they were totally off limits to me. (sigh!) So that's how you go on a diet in the Navy when eating three meals a day in the chow hall. The hardest part, however, is training the mess cooks the meaning of teensy weensy. Given patience, however, they'll eventually catch on. vee