Looking back at those curly-edged black and white photos pasted in my family albums, I note that I was thin until I hit my thirties. Until I hit my teens and discovered the glory of after-school french fries, gravy and cherry cokes at Diana Sweets,  I was actually skinny. That’s mainly because we grew up on a farm in Beamsville. It was ostensibly a fruit farm, but what sticks in my memory is my younger brothers and I picking up rocks from the orchard and piling them in rows along the fringes of the fields. We worked hard. We played outside every daylight hour. We didn’t have much to eat but I don’t recall being really hungry, except for sweets. Getting a fat Jaffa…

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