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From Lemmy to Moby

From Lemmy to Moby


So I’ve created a monster. I married a man who couldn’t get out of bed without a fry up and 18 years later I’m with a vegan. All I can say is: be careful what you wish for.

We began the Alkaline Diet at the beginning of January, as you do, which is essentially no everything except vegetables. You look at the list of ‘Foods to Enjoy’ – dark green leafy vegetables, sprouted beans and seeds, sea vegetables, spirulina and you think ‘fuck’. But then after a few days, a strange thing starts to happen and you find yourself getting out of bed earlier than usual just because and hang on a moment, is that a positive vibe I’m catching in the airwaves? Anyway back to the new man. Last Friday he barged me out of the way and said ‘I’m cooking tonight, it’s going to be a vegan feast.’ And it was. Now he’s regularly at the helm, a dash of Bragg’s Liquid Aminos here, a pinch of toasted sesame seeds there. He’s quite Ready Steady Cook about it – “I’ve got chillis, I’ve got beetroot, I’ve got wild rice.’ And he’s strangely immovable from the vegan path. Sometimes I offer him the children’s leftovers – ‘just a little side plate of carbonara?’ I wheedle and he recoils as if I’m handing him a plate of human waste. Yesterday I got home at 4 o clock and he still hadn’t got round to lunch. ‘Make you a sandwich?’ I offered. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he snapped. ‘Just some oatcakes and sliced tomato.’ At the pub last weekend he ordered a coffee when I’d have said he was a shoe-in for a Guinness. Even the kids are begging for a return to normal, or let’s say just something a little more dysfunctional. But something tells me it can only be a matter of time. And I’m dreading the fallout.  

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