Thanks to Simone Andrew for the link. Apologies Andrew, apparently gestating twins has destroyed my brain.

Thanks to the Yarn Harlot (via Twitter) for the heads up.

The cuteness might just kill me.

Robyn Nevin

Lois O’Donahue

Since our flock is now reduced to two approximately eight year old girls, we’ve been thinking of getting a few more, and this looked like a good way to get some fabulous chooks and a good match for our family. So I emailed the woman making the offer, and told her a bit about us, and that the girls would have a forever home with us, whether they were laying or not.

Usually, there is quite a bit of competition for freecycle items, especially things that have a high value, like purebred chooks. Anyway, I got an email this morning, the chook lady decided that we were offering the best home, so Inigo and I went to pick them up this afternoon.

So please welcome Lois O’Donohue, Robyn Nevin, and Meryl Tankard. Their previous people named them, and I think we’d better keep the names

We took Custard to the specialist today. He had deteriorated since yesterday, and the vet said that he would have a less than 50/50 chance of making it through surgery. He was in a lot of pain, so I had to make a decision on the spot to say goodbye.

Custard survived a lot in his lifetime. As a baby, I took him from a petshop with a nasty abscess. A vet said then that he probably wouldn’t live for more than six months, but he did. Later he had another abscess, which went all through his jaw and into his skull. Again, we didn’t have much hope that he would live for long. But he did, and he had great quality of life, especially in his last years, living with the adoration of his lady love Jasper.

He gave her his last kisses this morning, and 10:30 this morning, we said goodbye for the last time. The vet will do a necropsy, so that we know exactly what he was going through, and we will bury him at home on Thursday.

He would have been 10 on Valentines day.

Mumu is Crows Nest used to be open on a Tuesday, I’m sure, but when I went there yesterday they were closed. Fe couldn’t make it, but promises to be with me next week. But now I can’t find a restaurant that sells grass/pasture fed beef and is open on a Tuesday.

Here is an article from the SMH about the differences in producing different bits of cow. In case anyone is interested in why I insist on grass fed cow.

I’ve found (through the ABA mafia) an excellent dietitian that is going to help me negotiate this minefield. Apparently, humans are born with at specific transporter in the gut for haem (blood based) iron, and that eating vegetable sources of iron metabolises in a completely different way. So this means that eating meat will boost my iron levels in combination with and complementing my iron supplements. Which is actually much better news than I was expecting, and she is going to guide me in eating the right amount to get me out of this situation without going overboard. She is also going to look at my overall diet, and make sure I keep a good balance – useful for someone who hasn’t eaten red meat in a long time. I’ve also got to make sure I’m still taking care of Inigo and Mark’s dietary needs too.

I was going to respond to the comments on the previous post in the comments section, but it got unwieldy, so here we are.

Thanks everyone!

Ali – I remember having a bit of tandoori chicken about 8 years ago, it it came back up rather violently. I shall heed your sage words of warning!

Steph – I cannot tell you how much I appreciate having an econometrician (did I spell that right?) in my life. I shall be consulting you for the spreadsheet, flow chart and venn diagram of my next decision

Emma – I am still unable to walk into a butcher shop, so I am doing my research on the internets (of course). I am unable to look into the meat cabinet at Woolworths, so talking to a butcher might actually explode my brain. Also, I don’t think I could cook meat in the house – the bunnies, who are very sensitive people, freak out at meat cooking smells, and I don’t think it’s fair to make Mark and Inigo live with it either. But restaurants – that is another question entirely

Min – After about a decade of vegetarianism (though still loving the taste of meat), I have found that I can salivate at the idea of salami, (or pate, or bacon, etc.), but when it comes to the crunch, the thought of actually eating said delicacy actually turns my stomach. So while I like the idea of pate, I looked at it in the supermarket today, and read the ingredients, and as soon as I read “animal and vegetable oils”, the magic was gone. And I know I can’t eat a factory famed duck liver. And I still kind of hold on to the idea that if I am prepared to eat an animal, I ought to be prepared to kill it. I reckon I could kill a cow (with years of therapy), to save myself and my child, but I am still doubtful about killing a chicken or a duck. But then, I am a weirdo.

Ginevra – you’re right. And it’s such a cliche, but I don’t think there is anything else on this planet that could convince me to do this, except that little guy.

Fe – thanks for your support. Nothing like going carnivorous with an ex vegan for company!

I’m vegetarian because I think that in our society (and most of the industrialised world – and growing parts of the developing world), factory farming and the cruelty that is inherent in them is not something I can conscience. I always thought that if I was marooned on a desert island with nothing to eat but a cow, I’d totally be apologising to the cow, and then eating it.

It basically came down to the fact that I have the luxury of choosing what I eat, and I have the luxury of being able to provide healthy alternatives for my family. I also had the luxury of good health.

Since being anemic, I’ve actually been concerned about my ability to care for Inigo properly. And today, I had a real scare. We were in a park, about 200m from the car park. I was sitting down chatting with some mums from playgroup (playgroup has ended for the year, so we are catching up informally just for something to do). Inigo was playing happily close by for quite a while, but after an hour or so, he started to wander further and further afield. I was comfortable that he wouldn’t go too far, but of course, eventually, he did. I got up to grab him, and he started running. I sped up, but felt like I was likely to collapse at every step. I literally could not run. I couldn’t run to save my child, who was running headlong into a carpark. I went as fast as I could, and I caught him in a disabled parking spot, just inside the carpark. Thank goodness there were no moving cars at the time, but that did nothing to calm me down. It was all I could do just to carry him back to the picnic blanket without crying hysterically.

So yes, I am feeling better. Much, much better than I was at my worst. But I’ve decided that right now I can’t afford the luxury of refusing to eat meat. I can still make ethical choices, and next Tuesday, I am going here, and I am going to eat a steak. Anyone want to join me? Fe, I am looking at you!

But I’m still going to think of myself as a vegetarian. And when my iron levels normalise, I will be again. But for now, I need to protect my family, and apologise to the cow later.

And one more thing. I read this today, and am reminded of how special the ability to give blood is. What a difference it can make to a life, to someone you’ll probably never know. And what I found out last time I gave blood, that makes my blood extra special.

The big and heavy question – should I eat animals so I can save lives? Or do I think too much? Or is it just normal to think about the big picture just after a cancer scare?

So, readers, lurkers especially, what do you think? Self indulgent pap, or good sense?

Oh – and P.S. Fe asked if this meant that I will become “a meat eater” again, and I thought about it. But my touchstone is Inigo. I wouldn’t want him to see me eating meat, and I wouldn’t want him eating meat until he is old enough to make the choice for himself. So no, this is just for now, until my iron levels normalise.