I had porridge for breakfast this morning. Apparently it's an acquired taste, with age. Told my mum and she suggested, for the second time today, that I was getting old. Then again, The Head Gardener may have a point. What I did not tell her is that I am not sure I would trust anyone else to make me porridge. The once in a blue moon time I feel like porridge I am very particular that it's just oats and dried fruit cooked in a little water, so the oats are warmed through but not mushy, and with a splash of yogurt, on the stove. No stirring, or creamy oats, just cooked oats and a cup of tea. See? Fussy.
I spent some of the afternoon knitting and drinking tea and went for an afternoon walk so as to not become any fatter. That, and I would have got a dose of cabin fever else. I am currently thyroid fat, which means though I am being fairly reasonable with my food and moving around, going for walks, my measurement on the scales is a little on the depressing side.
I've added a little NDT (natural thyroid) to my regime and I will be adding B12 back in. I've been trying to keep my thyroid levels at a nice even keel and save money by reducing my vitamins but that never really works. I find there is a bare minimum of vitamin consumption I have to do, in order to stand up and find life vaguely worth living. Unfortunately for me, bare minimum is not cheap. I guess staying out of hospital and avoiding doctors as much as is practicable is relatively frugal!
I've made bircher muesli for tomorrow with fresh apple, cinnamon, oats and yogurt. In the morning I am due for another consultation with a medical professional. So much for an apple a day to keep the doctor at bay.