Red Mist

A Monday. No doubt about it.

My doctor phoned before 10am to announce - sight unseen - that I am obese and will have diabetes in a year or so if I do not sort myself out. 

I am not obese - overweight for sure - but he had his BMI chart in front of him (not me, to see for himself) so that is it. 

BMI is a blunt instrument. I could show you professional rugby players who are muscle and bone from the neck down, but "obese" when you just use a crude multiplier of weight and height. 

Rant over. 

But it did colour my day. 

I am now back in the world of weighing food, and keeping a diary of it all. I have even downloaded an NHS app to keep me on track. It has its limitations, as I have found on Day 1. It assumes everyone lives on processed food from the supermarket. I will improvise. 

My life found a bit of positive energy in the evening, weeding, sweeping and planting courgettes. 

The Blip is a 100g serving of strawberries, weighing in at a mahoosive 32 calories. They are from my greenhouse. 

Pas mal, ça