On Vegetables

My two sisters and I used to be vegetarians.

At Prudence's bat mitzvah, we stayed with friends of friends.  They served a traditional Shabbat dinner: salad, sweet potato casserole.... chicken.  My middle sister looked at her plate.  Then she looked at me.  Then she picked up her fork, because we were brought up to be polite.

Prudence came to visit one Pesach and was seduced by a roast chicken.

And one day in France I got really, really hungry.

And that was the end of that.

When I married Dr. S, I wasn't a vegetarian, but the kosher butcher was six miles away and I didn't have a car.  We'd have chicken or fish for Shabbat- sometimes. He promptly lost 20 of his 195 pounds (he's 6'2"), leaving him a very shadow of his former self.

We still don't cook very much meat.  For one thing, we are poor, and yea verily, kosher meat is expensive. Tofu, on the other hand, is not.  Completely separate from that are a couple moral and health considerations:

1) According to various sources, the average American eats between 0.5 and 0.75 pounds of meat per day.  This is not environmentally sustainable, especially not under humane animal-raising conditions.
1a)  It's not especially good for one's health to eat that much meat, either.  Manifestly. 

2) I believe that, as part of the prohibition on cruelty to animals, if one is eating meat, it should be prepared in a delicious fashion.  This takes a lot of time.
2a) And it's more of a special thing for us because we eat meat once every week or two.  This suits my sense of frugal appreciation of the delicious, delicious animals.

This week was Pesach, on which we always indulge in a brisket.  Delicious, delicious animals. Vegetarianism, I have forsaken you.  I fear it will be forever.

Insubstantial

I have decided: I will stop feeling guilty about having Dr. S watch Bug so I can sew. I rarely sew anything just for fun: I make Bug clothes because he needs them, I mend pants, I make myself maternity clothes so we don't have to spend money.

This is my contribution to the household economy. This is part of the work that I am doing so that we can afford to live the way we do (nice house, one parent at home, healthy food, car that runs, !@#$ expensive dentistry). I make dinner, I economize mightily, I sew.

To wit: I have made the following in the last 2.5 months:

Wedding present for lovely SIL


Birthday present for one of Bug's tot friends


Maternity skirts, made from other skirts


Maternity shorts, courtesy of the local thrift store + some fabric


A frickin' lot of diapers. I still have 7 more to sew.

Plus three pairs of toddler shorts, two pairs of toddler pants, two aprons, and a complicated harness (these last three items on commission, in exchange for babysitting). No wonder I'm tired of sewing.

Poverty, Part II

To me, we're poor, but we're not living in real poverty. Real poverty is lacking for what you need. Hunting squirrels and rabbits for food. Wearing old shoes that are no longer warm or comfortable. Being cold in the winter. Going hungry.

So we are poor, and in part by choice. Either of us could go work for industry, tomorrow (really: I could walk back into my old office), and earn twice a postdoc's salary. And, in fact, 70% of postdocs end up in industry. Now, it was my choice to quit my fancy job. I'm not now complaining about the consequences; I am describing what that choice means.

I'm not talking about "can't take that vacation to Tahiti."* I'm talking about working poor. I'm saying that with every penny, we have to make choices. Will I pay synagogue dues, or start a college fund for Tot 2?** Will I drive two hours to go visit my relatives who I haven't seen in years, or put that money towards the dental crown I need? Can we afford meat this week? Can I afford to buy a pregnancy tank top (for a total of... four) or should I get Bug new shoes instead?*** Can I afford this, can I afford that, an endless litany.

Sometimes it's hard to live with, even though it's my choice. Life is like that.


*True complaint from a well-paid, on-strike union member, speaking on the main stage: "And in ten years I've never once been able to take my family to the Bahamas!" Aaaand there goes my sympathy for that strike.

** They wish to base it on my pre-tax income, and take a sum equal to my grocery budget for a third of the year, or roughly HA HA HA HA HA. Sigh. I'll talk to the 'Budget Committee' eventually, but honestly? A tenth of what they want, and they can take it or leave it. I never liked High Holiday services anyways.

**Don't worry, he presently has three pairs of shoes that fit, plus two in each of the next sizes up. I'd never stint my child if I could help it.

Poverty, Part I

We are presently living on... one postdoc's salary. Since Dr. S got a small raise along with his fancy fellowship, we now (narrowly) miss qualifying for food stamps. And don't get me wrong, through acts of severe frugality, we are not starving. We're getting by. But... how poor is poor enough?

There are several local agencies that will provide small quantities of food or clothing, no questions asked, if one is in need. The kids' clothing center is right up the street. Of course, a little help would always make it easier. But are we really poor enough? What if I am taking that food from the mouth of someone who is truly hungry?