I'm a terrible vegetarian.
Today, as we were tearing up some of the garden to make room for the greenhouse, I was having an internal debate about how terrible of a vegetarian I am. I'm not talking about an American vegetarian, which I think is veggie except for bacon sandwiches, or people who think chicken doesn't could, or even pescetarians who still eat fish (although I did have phased where I did that to make life easier for my ex-partner - obviously before he was the ex) but it's more everything past the not eating meat things. People think it's more treading into veganism, but personally, I disagree.
Prior to moving back home, I was off milk, which was good for me, because I'm either lactose intolerant or lactose sets off my IBS. I found this out when I was about fifteen and something with a really creamy sauce made me violently ill and I wouldn't go to Pizza Express for a while. I was drinking my coffee with either oat milk or almond milk, and honestly, I was happy to pay the extra for the really good alternative milk, because it didn't make me feel ill and it didn't taste like crap like most of the cheap ones do. Unfortunately, my mum shops at Aldi and they only do the cheap alternative kinds of milk, and, to be perfectly honest, I would sooner go without milk than drink them and I have an at least five cup a day tea habit I can't sustain without milk, so compromise, I'm having red milk whilst living at my parents' place.
We're also growing our own veggies and things in the garden, however, there are aphids on some of the plants and cabbage looper caterpillars on others and they're trying to massacre the plants, so I spent some of today getting rid of the little yellow eggs off of the cauliflower plants and spraying the other plants down with a bug spray to try and save them from the insects, however when we ended up with stray worms in the gravel we were moving or on the concrete base where we were trying to clear to put up the greenhouse I was picking the little guys up and putting them in another part of the garden where they could run away into the soil and be happy and alive, but, on the other side, a spider was squashed because after me screaming at one of it's distant cousins for getting a bit too close that one decided to try and make a run up my arm as I was clearing a plant. There's another in the garden that I told my dad was going to get hit with whatever was closest if I saw the little sod again, but that was mainly because I ****-ing hate them, it was a Cupboard Spider, Cupboard Spiders bite and it gets nasty if you don't go to A&E and have it treated. I'm not going to the hospital any time soon if I can avoid it, so I'm not having one of those little ****houses bite me. I know I should live and let live and I know spiders help control the other bug populations, but there are rules around here. Spiders that try to/ get into my bed, dead, spiders in the house generally, probably going to get slipper-ed, large ones around me when I'm freaked out, likely to be ground into the carpet, in the garden, stay away from me and the worst that will happen is I'll scream because they're not socially distanced enough...
There is the whole argument as well of the number of animals that die in crop production and the production of pet food and all that jazz, and I know I have some work still to do on no eating sweets with gelatine in and not eating Milky Ways and Mars bars because they're made with rennet (which I only found out a few weeks ago) as well as making sure the cheeses I'm buying are actually vegetarian, but after fourteen years of this, I think I'm doing pretty okay with it. And most of my main characters in anything I write now are vegetarian, so I think that should score me some points...
No comments:
Post a Comment