Survivor Report

I gave thanks recently to the fish, mostly kippered herring, and buffalo who gave their lives that I might be relieved of my protein deficiency. It's strange to be chopping up steak and onions for the breakfast omelet pan at 9.30am, but I'll just have to get used to it. And, important for an ex wannabe vegetarian, recognizing that indeed some animals were harmed in the course of my quest for energy and vitality, an ugly and inconvenient truth.

My friend Chris, an avid hunter and outdoors type told me yesterday that should I ever find myself stranded in the wild, and lucky enough to find easy prey, I need to boil it first to get it soft, then roast it to get it crispy. Now there's advice you won't get from Julia Child.

It's beginning to sink in, one bite at a time, that life really can be the dog eat dog proposition we'd prefer it not to be. Just because we might live in a house that we think we own when really it belongs to the bank, or wear clothes that are supposed to simply protect us from the elements but have evolved into status symbols, doesn't mean we're all that civilized. We're one flood, fire or earthquake away from cave dweller mentality. Or as is the case for so many families, one paycheck away from homelessness.

So I think it behooves me to get mighty grateful mighty fast for simple facts, such as I don't actually have to slaughter my food and that others are paid to do that, though it would be useful to know how, just in case. I would not survive on berries and roots for long in my present condition. I'm held together by pharmaceuticals, supplements, social security, alimony and the flesh of slain beasts. Loving friends and family are a bonus.
Today I am not complaining.