Aye, the Scots have always had that independent streak, a good thing. We could have used a lexicon to navigate the waters there last year, as we lived there for three months. I made sure we had a flat and negotiated the grocery stores first thing.

Second thing, actually, as I only brought a navy blazer and suit for Jim and it was snowing and sleeting upon our arrival. So our first stop was the outdoor store, Tiso, for winter gear. Bad wife.

But I learned to make breakfast with thin slices of pancetta, farm-fresh eggs and toast. At home I have to search for the cheddar I want, whether it be from Vermont or the UK. In Glasgow one buys “mature cheddar” of undetermined stature and it’s guaranteed to make a stellar grilled cheese sandwich for lunch.

We loved the pizzas, hated the burgers, loved the mussels. Also the fresh cold water we sipped by the gallon. The electric water heater in the shower was a trip. Jim scared the wits out of me telling me how hot the current was and to turn on and off every appliance at the source. Within 24 hours I knew how to boil water, make tea, cook eggs, and do laundry. The only appliance I didn’t use was the dishwasher as in a corporate apartment one only has four cups, spoons, forks, plates… you get the picture. It was easier and more cost-effective for me to hand-wash the dishes. With washing-up liquid, of course.

What I really liked about living downtown and walking everywhere, or taking trains, was that over there you don’t transport water. Your laundry soap comes in a pellet. Other than buying a sandwich and bottle of drinking water for lunch, one does not transport water home. Here I buy boxes of chicken broth. There it’s an Oxo cube which I gave away. They re-use bags and I still have my Tesco card. Also my Oyster card which I recently lent out to a friend in London on business.

Oh, and when you take the Tube, “Mind The Gap.” Cheers and good morning, folks! Dee

Must say that I love the husband I have but I’d never let him cook a meal because I know what a disaster he is in the kitchen. And our cookware, forget it. Dropped on a concrete floor and squared too many times.

The dog is allowed but for only about a minute per day when she has to chew and swallow raw frozen lamb or venison. With a lot of veggies. Plus dry food and organic chix broth. Then she hangs outside the kitchen and watches me, like a hawk.

How do you feel about your kitchen domain? I don’t even think about it now but at some point boundaries were set.

Let me leave you by saying love your family and friends and treat them well. I’m sure if you’re a cook they flock to you and depend on you so do your best to be there for them.

People will remember us in our hospitality, our interest in their well-being, camaraderie and thoughtful food.

Health and happiness.

Dee