Ok, so I’m feeling like crap today, I’ve felt like crap for a few days now, and I think to myself…hey, I’ll just have some chicken soup. But then I look outside at the chickens grazing in the yard and wonder…can they smell it from there? Will they look at me differently if I suddenly make a pot of chicken soup just to make myself feel better? And why do I feel so guilty? I didn’t feel this guilty when I made egg salad for lunch yesterday. I didn’t feel guilty making eggs for breakfast. And yet, here I am feeling guilty about chicken soup.
Maybe I’ll just grab a bowl of cereal. Surely the chickens can’t hold that against me.
This living on the farm thing is starting to give me pause. What happens if the husband follows through with his threat to get baby pigs? Will I be able to eat bacon again? And what about bees? If he gets bees will I still feel comfortable eating those Honeycombs I had for breakfast? It’s one thing to eat those unfertilized eggs from the chickens (it’s not like they can ever be chicks or anything) but it’s completely another to eat someone I knew personally. I mean, would Fern EVER consider eating a BLT sandwich if Wilbur put the B in BLT? It would be a little too much like eating my cat or something. I may find Henry Chow thoroughly annoying when he decides he’s too good to use a dirty litter box, but I would NEVER consider eating him. I certainly can’t imagine eating the Henriettas.
This is how vegetarianism got started, isn’t it?
Until the next time…I’ll be eating macaroni and cheese!