We spent over two months in Scotland and divided time for ten days in London. While in Glasgow I had the pleasure of a Texas girlfriend and we toured Scotland two-three times a week. I learned so much about the people and the culture.

My techie husband made sure that I had a MacBook and Skype before going to Scotland and both were life savers. Our friends and I just spent nearly an hour catching up by phone (by mutual Skype) and it was great to hear their voices and what they’re up to these days in this crazy world.

It was great to talk to you, Karen and Jack! We miss you. Send us your itinerary and we’ll see if we can work something out to see you stateside. I’ll get that recipe to you as well.

I think Scotland needs to become its own country again. Without bloodshed, only signing a piece of paper agreed to by Scotland and England. My only worry is the means to do for itself, by itself. But I’ve no knowledge of the Scottish economy, only of the people and their will to be free. After all, England has to want Scotland really bad to try to take it time and time again.

Glasgow Cathedral

Welcome to the land of St. Mungo. Let Glasgow Flourish. Remember the tree, the bird, the fish and the bell. And the gold ring, of course. Long stories, enough for today. Best wishes, Dee

Of most importance is getting out a message and gaining a few folks who might want to read my musings. I don’t know that my current blog hosts provide what I need to get their, and my, message out. I need to be able to talk freely. Today I researched Boer goats, how to cook them. I see them and have named some female breeders, and I don’t necessarily want them or their offspring to be sold for meat. But today’s cattle ranchers aren’t making what the market brought six months ago, so why not take on a few goats.

My next step is to research all the many cultures that eat goat and learn the traditions, then help my mother-in-law put them up on a blog or website.

Politics envelop all of us these days, with layoffs and banks taking our money for themselves and not lending it out for farms and houses and cars. I have to talk about politics. It affects my grocery shopping! I did make a terrific skirt steak with chimichurri (homemade of course) for dinner. Today I saw a food site offer a prize for an under $5 meal recipe. I’m not there yet for a really great one but a few years ago I could feed the two of us for $10 per day and that’s three meals home-cooked. I’m guessing cereal with fruit for breakfast, quesadillas for lunch and maybe a stir-fry for dinner with rice.

Does another trillion dollars help us through this economic debacle? Not if we depend on the “trickle-down” theory when our jobs and homes are lost and we can’t put mac and cheese on the table (tonight’s dinner, homemade).

You know Jim’s contract ended and there’s little work. We’ll be here another month. The market was cold, tepid and is beginning to heat up here and across the country for his type of work. I’ll go with him wherever he goes, but wearing womens head-scarves and being always accompanied out of the compound by my husband is out of the question. Especially if there are bombs and guns involved. There’s a lot to learn about food in the Middle East and Africa, about cultures and history, but right now I’d rather visit than agree to live there for several years.

I love the little things while traveling here in the States and overseas that surprise me, also items available in the groceries. It would be wonderful to continue my culinary education in that regard but … we’ll see what happens.

We hoped you survived your Super Bowl Party. It was just us, and Jim read most of the time. I found it an historic game and will make Buffalo Wings in honor of my old team one of these days, depending upon how quickly we have to pack up if we move. We’re already eating away at the frig, freezer and pantry in case we’re moving in the next couple of weeks. At least I know where to find Frank’s Louisiana Hot Sauce. Teresa had it many years ago when she invented the Buffalo Wing at Anchor Bar in Buffalo. But I can get it in TX.

How about a “Who Gets Bambi? Contest. I’ll have to come up with the contest and then arrange for shipping with dry ice. OK, I’ll try it. Cheers, Dee

Here it is!

Go buy your dog a Kong and some peanut butter!  Dee

Thanks for reading and writing in. That’s the infamous C-clamp on the bottom right. Dee, Reporter At Large

I’ve wrestled with this for a long time and know that my place is alongside my husband Jim. Here in a loft? Right now that’s home but we’re open to different solutions.

We like living downtown and don’t think we could handle suburbs. Country is another option, but not one that can be exercised at this time. Here is home, we’ve been here over four years and can wait a few months to see what the markets are doing.

In the meantime there might be a movie worth seeing, other events as well. We’ll be here for Christmas and always have “strays” and may just do good things. Blog friend Susan is doing so for our troops. Check out potandkettle.wordpress.com Buy the book. I did. Take care, Dee

La Pittura (Self-portrait as the Allegory of Painting, 1638-39) is a Renaissance painting of a woman by a woman. That was simply not done in that era. I went to the exhibit by myself and ran into several women in this corner looking at this extraordinary work of art. All women, and amazed at the talent and bravery of one woman in 1638.

All my life I’ve been amazed at the talents of women that mainly get passed over by men. Family is a given with Owee, Mom, Joan and Lorna and Aunt Anna on Dad’s side. My violin teacher, Nancy S., Sallie P., Carol H., Mrs. H. (ballet and tap), Joanie and her Mom of course.

My H.S. French teacher, gymnastics coach, Margaret Fox and all my favorite female chefs (no, you’re not on Food Network).

Eleanor Roosevelt, Rosa Parks, Harriet Tubman, Florence Nightengale, and then we have the story tellers. Joan Baez with Diamonds and Rust, Kate Wolf and the wildwood flower, my celtic storytellers and now Ms. Juni Fisher.

There are many more and that’s a good thing, because there can never be too many women to emulate. Given that we’re over 50% of the population, we need our girls to aspire to something great, like President. When I was six years old I had three precious books. One was “Four Days” about the death of JFK, another was about Abraham Lincoln, and the last about Annie Oakley, who was my heroine of the day.

What ties this together is that Jane, another heroine, is helping to restore a work of art by Artemesia Gentileschi. I believe women painted in those days but just weren’t given credit for it. Artemesia was brazen (not in a bad way) to paint herself this way.

First, the Crosse and Blackwell site pointed him to Hackensack NJ for the nearest jar of this fruit and sometimes meat mixture that is all apples and raisins and rum and brandy and all kinds of good stuff to put in a short crust and bake.

That didn’t work. So he went further and what did he find? My blog. That’ll teach him for not reading me from time to time!

It may be better that Mom is gone to find that her beloved Crosse and Blackwell label is now owned by Smuckers. But with Kevin in dire straits I was ready to send him my sole jar of mincemeat.

At the last moment, I found it on the Smuckers’ site under “specialty” items and Kevin ordered three jars to be sent directly to Dad pre-Christmas so he can make the tartlets. Mom always had a special Marie Antoinette champagne glass to cut the bottom piece, a precise “Mom” measurement of mincemeat, then used a champagne flute for the “hat.”

Let’s hope Dad figures that out. In the meantime I always remember Mom’s pastry recipe:

1.5 cups flour
1.5 sticks butter, chilled and cubed (3/4 cup)
1 teaspoon salt
3T ice water (maximum, depending upon consistency of the dough, weather, everything)

Pulse the flour, butter and salt in a food processor until it looks like peas or lentils. Add 2T water and pulse. If it comes together right away, it’s done. It shouldn’t look like a solid mass but should pull together if you grab a tablespoon full with your hand and it comes together. If it doesn’t, add a few more drops of ice water until it does so.

Hey, I’m not the pastry lady! My hands melt the stuff. DO NOT overwork the dough as you will enhance the gluten (which you want in bread but not in pastry) and make the resulting dough tough. Place the dough on a clean flat surface and make it into a small round. Wrap it in plastic and let it rest in the frig for at least 20 minutes. This allows the dough to relax and the gluten strands to stop forming.

Roll out and use your preferred cutters. I wish I’d asked for Mom’s. Mincemeat tarts were always a family staple from Thanksgiving through Christmas and while the glasses she used to cut the pastry were not valuable to any collector, I actually think Kevin should have them for offering mincemeat this year.

So, Dad, here’s how to make Mom’s mincemeat tarts, except for the year that she and A.L. made their own, with meat! I told you this already – they went back to C&B that is now owned by Smuckers.

There’s no getting near the post office today, the busiest day of the year for shipping. And USPS site is down is well and holding postage funds that it won’t allow me to print. Happy holidays to you, too, Uncle Sam!

It is going to be a new year and we can only hope to have a better economy and our troops home from Iraq. Wishing you the best this holiday season – Dee

I tried but they all came out badly. These big fat flakes are floating by my windows. None will settle on the ground, it’s just a magical fairy tale that happens every few years in Texas.

As I grew up in snow country I always loved the first pristine snows of the season and hated the rest as Lake Erie laid its waste upon us and we had to shovel it. Before school. After school.

But now, as these light flakes drift across the sky it reminds me of childhood and Christmas. As dog Zoe wipes her face post-dinner on our living room rug (no Aubussons here) I contemplate taking her out in the snow, perhaps with the camera.

Perhaps I’ll watch the snowflakes along the cityscape for a few moments, dimming the lights and knowing that AT&T should be doing something to get their cell phone towers back up to speed. One has to call them to complain and if one cannot call, one cannot complain. Quiet, dark, snowflakes, needy dog. Good stuff. Dee

Ted Allen collects Haiku. Let’s share some Haiku here and see if we can beat Ted.

Come on, it’s a David vs. Goliath battle here. What have we got to lose? Tomorrow I’ll show you a couple I’ve sent to Ted Allen’s blog a while ago.

Step up, mates! Put your culinary and poetic magic down on paper. I’ll think of some more and share with you. Cheers! Dee

The lone punch bowl and ladle (at 22 I had this stuff from family) were brought in but Dennis decided he was going to make the brew in a five gallon water bottle and serve it in the Speaker’s water cooler.

For weeks afterwards the very important ladies in the Speaker’s office said their water was pink and they didn’t know why (they probably also got a nice buzz going by afternoon). So I’m guessing the statute of limitations allows me to tell that story now.

We also had a big fight about who was going to cater the summer staff bbq. It cost us each $5, exhorbitant! OK so it was five bucks for a single gal and the same amount for a family of five. There goes the raise issue again.

Come event time massive rainstorms were forecasted so we scheduled a conference room and instead of a caterer for 100+ people each “team” would do their own thing. So I made vichysoisse and cucumber canapes as part of an elegant 6-course meal, and one team member brought in a silver candelabra and salt and pepper shakers and I think I added great-grandma’s embroidered linen tablecloth.

Everyone else had sandwiches or stuff they bought at the cafeteria. They thought we were nuts. Sometimes one needs to be outrageous.

Recently a couple of young friends described a barbeque with no tools, no plates…. To my chagrin I realized that my pantry includes a plumbing key for the grills and fireplace, gas torch, enough plastic plates and cups and utensils for fifty, matching napkins and grill tools that show that yes, I’m an adult now. Dee