Green Prescription

A while ago a couple of friends mentioned an exercise class they were going to. When it came up in conversation again, it turned out it was a Green Prescription class. Which got me thinking, because I had imagined that Green Prescriptions were for people with lots more barriers to exercise than me. But not so. Busy Mums who are a bit plump and not very fit at running (as differentiated from making lunches, listening to the radio, organising breakfasts, mediating disputes and checking on short people's getting dressed progress ALL AT ONCE, which we are very fit at) may also qualify.

So I make an appointment and about a month later I actually get to see the doctor and I explain that I heard about this programme and as I am fat and unfit, I thought I too might qualify.

Doctors are BMI country. I'm not so into BMI myself, but if you want a freebie, then needs must. I nearly disputed her technique of getting me to leave my shoes on for the scales and to take them off for the height measurement. Only I bit my tongue just in time because y'know, the point of all this is to get categorised as sufficiently fat. You could be skinny and be as unfit as me, but whatever, focus on the freebie bit.

Today I had my interview with Michael, the Green Prescription coordinator. He was very nice and asked me what my typical day involved. He was dead impressed with my busy-ness by the time I'd gotten to 9am in the morning. Um that is what working and having children looks like of a morning, nothing very unique. But we established that my biggest barrier to physical exercise was time. I do get time to myself in the evening, time to read or sew or blog or surf the net, but it isn't physical activity time.

So this Wednesday I start doing some exercises in a room above the pub. Given that I go at 9am and have to work later in the day, I should be safe from the temptation to go to the pub afterwards.

At the supermarket tonight I bought some gladioli for summer flowering. It is the one pictured above, called Irish Blessing. I think I shall plant them in a big pot so I can move them round to where I see them most. It is fashionable amongst greenies to eschew the supermarket, and I've done just that for chunks of the last decade. But right now, I LOVE the supermarket. I love that it is open until 9pm so I can go down at 8.30pm and buy breakfast food and prevent early morning disaster all. by. myself. It's cheaper that way. Or, put another way, the treat is gladioli bulbs instead of Snow White tissues. Better value for the mother.

Food. Whether I feel like cooking it, or growing it, or buying it, people keep on getting hungry. Not long ago my children turned an excellent display of good fortune. They were asked to draw the numbers out for the meat raffle at the pub and Brighid drew out our friend's number and Fionn drew out FH's number. Since then, we've had sausages, beef swirls and now loin chops from the meat pack. the loin chops were good. I might buy them again. Next is some cross cut steak. I feared recreating the charred chops of my childhood and I recoiled from the cost of Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall's recipe for loin chops, so I marinated them in garlic and rosemary and olive oil and grilled them for dinner tonight. They turned out pretty good. Last night I made latke. Three people liked them. Three people is good.

Laundry. It's rather like death and taxes.


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