Things we think about, and the things that push us over that edge, and thinking becomes doing

I have at many points in my two years of vegetarianism considered becoming a vegan. I've thought long and hard about it, and for long stretches I very nearly took the plunge. There are four reasons that have stopped me:

1. I LOVE a little milk in my coffee.
2. Baked goods, candies; treats lose their decadence when you eliminate butter and eggs.
3. Cheese. Need I say more?
   
4. Eating anyone's cooking but my own (restaurants included) becomes exceptionally complicated.

Today I tossed out every milk-product in my house, of which there were terribly few: an ounce of blue cheese; a tiny carton of milk; a few crackers; a stick or two of butter. What I have not yet eliminated is the honey, and though I almost never use it (largely because maple syrup is a far superior substitute), I am conceptually bothered by the elimination of honey. Like wool, or its more precious cousin alpaca, it seems a strange thing to eliminate. Refusing to eat honey seems as logical as refusing to eat any bee-pollinated food product, which would be absurd. I'm also unlikely to dispose of all my leather goods, though I may select a few for purging, it would be wasteful, indulgent, and incredibly complicated to eliminate them all. And I still want those gorgeous red boots (size 8, please).

In the past week I've spent time with two vegans: one who has sustained the diet for some four or more years, and another who converted only four weeks ago. Neither was in any way preachy, but I find myself oddly convinced. As with my vegetarianism, I make no claims to its permanence, but for now, for me, it is the right thing.