New Year's Eve 2018, my son challenged the whole family to go vegan for January. My husband is all about supporting our children's ideas and I'll try anything new to do with food.
New Year's Day, we're driving up from Farranfore when we stopped in a restaurant in Macroom for a bite to eat. I had never been in this particular restaurant before but it was packed with families so that had to be a good sign. We asked for the menu. Every single main course contained meat, chicken, beef, prawns even venison but nothing for us. I asked for the vegetarian option. Frozen vegetables warmed up in curry sauce on rice. I nearly cried. We're going to starve.
2nd January - day two- I went back to work. It was a dark, cold, dreary morning and it was raining. Of course, it was, it's January. Thoughtfully, I left the car at home so my husband could use it and my son could drive himself to work. I had intended to walk but because of the rain, I took the bus. I got off at Grand Parade and walked the last 20 minutes.
The birds were singing which was lovely but the empty streets, the almost non-existent traffic, zero people and the near empty bus made me feel the whole world was still on holiday while I trudged thanklessly to work.
At 5pm, having used my last fiver in M&S on a vegan dinner - a three bean chilli stew - it was awful and left me thinking even at my worst I can cook better than this, I had no means of getting home. I wanted to stop in Aldi and get the ingredients for Al Pomodoro sauce which being only garlic, onions, tinned tomatoes and sugar happily fell into the vegan category. I was not actually hungry but the vile dish I had for lunch lay like a brick in my stomach and I felt the need to wrestle some control back over my life.
Hubbie arrived only slightly late. I slid into the front seat covered in bags and empty plastic bottles. Hubbie hastily scooped them up and flung them into the back seat. There was a McDonalds bag on the floor, an old newspaper and a half empty sports drink bottle rolling under my feet. The smell of damp, used rugby socks hung in the air and I could hear empty cider cans rolling and colliding with something hard in the boot; evidence of our son recently passing his driving test. In an attempt to combat the odour, a tree shaped smelly thing dangled from the rear view mirror.
Straining to show gratitude for the lift, I said, “Why didn’t you bring my car?”
Hubbie looked at me startled and said, “There’s a slight problem with your car.”
“What?”
“I burst the tyre.”
I resisted the urge to scream.
I took a deep breath, "What happened?"
"I was on my way to meet you. Luckily I was early when it happened. I was trying to get my phone to work when I hit the kerb and the tyre burst."
I sat in silent despair. Twenty-nine more days of this.
“Do we have shopping bags?” I asked.
"Ah, they're in the other car."
'Fucking great', I thought. I told him of my need to go to Aldi.
"We don’t have time to go to Aldi as I have to go to Quick Fix to fix the tyre on your car."
"Where is the car?"
"Next to the cemetery where I left it. And I have to go to the dealers to check we are still under warranty."
Thwarted again.
“I have to eat.” I said.
“Conor has cooked. He went to the shops today and bought a load of stuff.”
My heart lifted. Something hot waited for me at home. We arrived at Quick Fix to find it closed but the dealer rang to confirm we were still under warranty.
“I’ll drop you home,” said Hubbie.
“I think that’s wise,” said I.
We drove home in silence.
Relieved to be home again, I opened the front door and as I stepped inside, the little voice in my head said, 'Either you believe this stuff or you don't. Take it easy, one breath at a time. If you believe it, then live it.'
I took a deep breath and became grateful: I was home. I was dry and the situation was not that terrible: my dinner was waiting for me and Hubbie had my broken car in hand.
My son came bustling out of the kitchen waving a wooden spoon, “Sit down, I’ll serve it up.”
Without taking off my coat, I sat at the kitchen table. My son poured out what looked like white soup with vegetables and noodles into a pasta bowl.
“What is it?
"It’s stir fry with noodles and coconut milk."
“Did you follow a recipe?” I asked with what I hoped conveyed a light note of curiosity.
“No, I just played it by ear.”
With my son standing over me, I horsed into it. It was satisfying and my mood improved on having something warm inside me.
Feeling closer to normal I put on the kettle for a cup of tea.
My phone rang. Hubbie had given the insurance company my number as a contact since his own phone was still lifeless. The repair man was on his way.
“Will you drop me down?” asked Hubbie, “You don’t have to wait around.”
I poured my tea into a thermal mug and headed for the front door.
As I drove Hubbie down to the cemetery, the first inkling of guilt nudged my conscience. I began to realise how his day was going for him. He was on his holidays. As a favour to me, he came to collect me from work. The car failed. He had to walk back home to get the other car. He came to collect me and met a bad tempered woman. He still had to organise the car to be fixed. He didn’t complain once. If he felt inconvenienced or unappreciated, he didn’t show it.
I stayed with him while we waited for the repairman.
The rest of January went better once we discovered the Happy Pear on YouTube, a website called Accidentally Vegan and that just because a product doesn't have the word 'vegan' stamped on it doesn't mean you can't eat it. It was the longest, toughest month of my life.
People shouldn't undertake radical life style changes during the longest, coldest, darkest month of the year. We should be nicer to ourselves. I was glad when it ended and glad that I did it. I felt healthier and I believe the science that says a plant-based lifestyle is healthier but it's not for me.
Vegans have a reputation for having no sense of humour but that's not true. I saw a sign outside a car mechanic's shop telling the world, 'All our tyres are vegan.'
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