No Lamb No Chicken? Say WHAT?

I've always loved lamb. I call it lamby. I thought lamb was a special kind of animal, just as I thought meat was a special part of the animal, different from muscle. It's just better if you don't know. When I first found out that lamb was a baby sheep, I shuttered. I haven't eaten veal for over 25 years, ever since I found out it was baby cows not allowed to move. It was an ethical thing. My children were raised with that knowledge and I don't think they've ever eaten veal. So I'm a hypocrite. Actually, worse, because baby lambs are CUTER than baby cows, I think. But I'd made the initial commitment only to avoid cows and pigs, so I feel peaceful about eating everything else. I do. I do. I DO!

So when I cooked up the organic lamb burgers, I started getting excited, looking down at the sizzling goodness, smelling that lamb smell, getting out the ketchup, waiting to have a delicious meat-filled dinner of goodness. Only it's not so easy to look at that lamb burger so innocently anymore. Now I KNOW 'things'. I bit into the lamb and felt the lanolin-like grease coat my lips and I felt slightly nauseous. Are you KIDDING me? Give up lamb? Do I have to?

Hubby cooked chicken last night. I have 5 beautiful organic chickens from my best friend Maggie, but they're all in the freezer, so he bought some of those Playboy chickens (absurdly large-breasted) and grilled them up. I cut a small end of one of the breasts and plopped it among my huge pile of vegetables. I took one bite. My teeth slid into the slightly rubbery, well, suffice it to say I politely spit the bite into my napkin and slipped the rest of the piece back onto the serving plate.

I don't know - I don't know - what's next on the chopping block? Turkey? Shrimp? Salmon? Eggs? Cheese? I will be honest with you. I don't know. I don't know what's permanent and what's transitory. I just know that my body is feeling something and I'm doing my best to honor its wishes. I've cut my coffee to half a cup in the morning and started drinking green tea again. I made up a bag full of organic trail mix with brazil nuts, almonds, pecans, dates, raisins and pumpkin seeds.

Okay, just promise me one thing. If you see me wearing a bandanna around my long gray hair, an apron around my overalls, and steel-toed work boots, PLEASE say something to me. I may have gone too far. But maybe not. We'll just have to see. And NO, Shirley, you may NOT have my Louis Vuitton handbags, in case you were wondering. I will be hanging on to those for the time being.