Baa

I am being kicked out of the vegetarian club as soon as they find out about the sheep. I would like to say that my problem started when I saw the acres of fields in England and Scotland covered with adorable new spring lambs, but that would be cruel of me. It actually started a few months earlier when I saw the package of free range leg of lamb on the shelf at my favorite organic food store. I knew it was wrong, and even though I walked away the first time, I went back and picked out the smallest package of lamb chops and hid it under the tofu and wheat gluten. I did not look the cashier in the eye, but honestly, she's a little weird looking and I usually avoid direct eye contact anyway. I bagged the groceries myself, sticking the package of chops on the very bottom of my reusable cloth bag, the one that makes me think I am reducing the mound of garbage the world is producing when I remember to take it out of my car. I took them home without saying a word and put them in the fridge, and since my husband can't find anything stored in there and has no sense of smell, he never knew that I cooked them with rosemary and garlic and tucked them into my lunch bag for work. The first bite made me feel a bit guilty, but then I thought, who's going to know? My trip to UK was a constant lamb feast; lamb curry, lamb kabobs, roasted rack of lamb with crispy little potatoes and grilled chops with a side of perfectly prepared green beans. Back home I stopped trying to disguise my new obsession, and when my husband took me to Outback, I discovered they have a way with the ever jolly Australian jumbucks. Yes my vegan son and daughter in luv would be disappointed in me, but they won't know unless they read this blog. Humm, I think I might have given that address to my darling DIL, but hopefully, she has become distracted with her busy life and wondered off to work on her own blogs.
I remember making lamb pictures with my children, letting them glue cotton balls to paper and drawing in legs and noses. I also remember Shari Lewis and her disturbingly named puppet, “Lamb Chop”. Even though I have done it myself, I find it disconcerting that we humanize food items. Ads assault us with dancing pigs, cows with a vendetta against chickens, and fish with suicidal daydreams. Having grown up in farm country I was never able to anthropomorphize sufficiently to justify vegetarianism on that basis. It’s always been about health first, and secondly about walking lightly on the earth. The earth is just going to have to suck it up until I pass through this phase.