We had a workshop at the office on Saturday that included lunch.
When I eventually got to the table after putting equipment away, there was nothing left on the one vegetarian platter provided.
Of course other platters overflowed with meat-filled dishes, with plenty left over.
And that’s generally how my life as a vegetarian outside my home has been.
No one can be bothered about appropriate food, even when I’m not the only vegetarian in attendance.
Even my family reacted rather suprisingly as if I had joined a religious cult and had to disown them. “What about Christmas?” my sister asked. She also wanted to know what I would eat at get-togethers when they braai meat.
So far I’ve been mostly avoiding eating meals cooked outside my home.
Except for the occassional cheese and tomato sandwich from the cafe.
Even Woolworths in Kenilworth Centre had no vegetarian pies when I went looking for a quick meal.
Checkers’ pies were just awful the one time I managed to find a feta and cheese pie.
Other than that, I don’t miss eating meat, because I’m fully aware of what the animals go through to get to my plate.
I cook meatless dishes without problems as I only occassionaly ate meat before, anyway.
I received an email from a former colleague this morning telling me I was glowing at the workshop yesterday.
Knowing how crappy the past few weeks have been, I can only attribute it to blindness on her side or the fact that I’m making choices (like not eating meat, amongst others) that matches my conscience.