Just been out walking in the fresh air – that would be the -5 degrees fresh air. Decided that today was a porridge day. Somewhere from the dim recesses of childhood memory, the advert jingle is still on my inner memory stick, "Scott's porridge beats the cold". At my aunt's funeral earlier in the week catching up with cousins we were remembering our days on the farms in Ayrshire when my dad was the dairyman. And most mornings we had cream from the milk left overnight which kind of neutralises the cholesterol lowering properties of the porridge – but there's nothing like it. A couple of years ago I posted a panegyric on porridge as health food. You can read it on the Feb 1, 2007 post over here.
Don't usually repeat posts – but that one just seems to say something essentially sensible – and daft. I like the poem too much to only ever post it once! And the Scott's Porridge packet is so cliched it should be run past the trade description and advertising standards – I've never seen someone in a white vest, wearing a kilt, in shot putt throwing stance, on the edge of a cliff, looking down on a Scottish Loch, with the sun shining! It isn't our porridge of choice anyway. The big chunky jumbo rolled oats ("gently milled to retain the nutty flavour" – aye right!), from Sainsbury's are the ones that do it for me. Whatever – I've just had some and only the good people at the church were I'm preaching soon will know if it did me any good.
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