Where I come from being a vegetarian is sacrilegious. I descend from a long line of hunters, cow & pig farmers, and the notion that if it has furr...it is edible. My grandfather grew up in the Great Depression, and he was adamant that we learn how to "survive.. if it came down to it." (I'll leave those stories for another post).
I spent the entire weekend with my grandparents. David was out of town at a conference. I knew that broaching the subject would be difficult. You see, food is the center of conversation and interaction down there. When I arrived, they had picked up a bucket of chicken for dinner. Thankfully, I grabbed a baked potato and ate behind a stack of papers on the table. Yep, I was "chicken".....and I didn't say a word about this new change.
So, for now......I'm still "in the closet" about being vegetarian to my grandparents.
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