February 23, 2003 SCOTTISH TAKEWAY Scottish Takeaway The Great Wall of China, you can see it from the moon, You can walk from end to end, and not find one greasy spoon. I'm going on my holidays to the land of the I Ching - Is there a Scottish takeaway in Beijing ? I love my mince and tatties, haggis, neeps and skirlie too; If I don’t get my stovies, I don’t know what I'll do. Bagpipes and whisky will always make me sing, Is there a Scottish takeaway in Beijing? Connoisseurs of eastern cuisine, please don't get me wrong, I'm very partial to a bite knocked up by Mr Wong. If I need an Indian I just give the shop a ring, Is there a Scottish takeaway in Beijiing ? I went down to London, stopped in at Lee Hoo Fook's. The grub was really tasty, they done it by the books, With chopsticks and those little bowls from the dynasty of Ming. Is there a Scottish takeaway in Beijiing? Don't forget the salmon, no, not him from the SNP; I love those great big fishes that swim in from the sea, I like mine smoked with a slice of lemon to give it a wee bit zing But is there a Scottish takeaway in Beijing? Meaning of the Scottish words: mince and tatties= minced beef and potatoes/ neeps= turnips or swedes skirlie=oatmeal and onions fried together stovies=dish made from sliced potato and onions, & small pieces of lamb A piece=sandwich Arbroath smokies=smoked haddock from Arbroath Cullen Skink=fish soup SNP=Scottish National Party (Alex Salmond was a prominent member) Childhood Treats Banana Sandwiches - sliced bananas on white or brown bread with either butter or walnut raisin cream cheese Marzipan fruits Keiller's Marmalade on Toast – Keillers marmalade made in Dundee is the best. McIntosh (Red) apples (we used to 'dook' for these in a big basin at Halloween. Lyle’s Golden Syrup Sago with Raspberry jam in the middle - because that was served to us as a dessert, or pudding, from the school meals ladies in Scotland. Porridge served with salt instead of sugar - I'll eat my porridge this way and telling a Scot to put sugar in his porridge is the ultimate breakfast insult! Toblerone My favourite chocolate growing up in Scotland. I love to open up that triangular cardboard box to get into the silver paper, then bite off those triangles one by one and eat them. Rhubarb and Sugar - Even though the leaves of rhubarb are poisonous it seemed like everybody had a rhubarb patch in their back garden. I remember my mother taking some greaseproof or wax paper and rolling it up into a cone and putting sugar in it and washing a stalk of rhubarb for me. I would happily go off with the rhubarb and bag of sugar and dip the raw rhubarb in and out of the bag, sucking the sugar until the rhubarb stalk became positively stringy. I was probably eating more sugar than rhubarb! I still love rhubarb pie, or stewed rhubarb and custard. Sugarally Water I love licorice, as in Bassett's Licorice Allsorts, but I can't imagine doing this again: My little gang of chums, right up until we were about 10 or 11 I think, would make a drink called Sugarally Water. We would put about 3 or 4 sticks of pure licorice - that you could only get from the chemist, or pharmacist into a large empty lemonade bottle. With the licorice in the bottle, we would fill the bottle with ordinary tap water and put in a dark place for about a week for it to dissolve. I liked to put mine under the kitchen sink - we called that "the cubby hole" - where it was nice and dark and cold. After a week you had Sugarally Water – we thought it was nectar from the gods! Lemon Curd - this is another Scottish treat, preferably made by Robertson's of Scotland. It's a preserve made from lemons and is really good on home-made bread. 99's All the ice cream shops in Scotland would sell these. All you do is take an ice cream cone and stick a Cadbury's Chocolate Flake in it – simple!

February 23, 2003 Famous Scots FAMOUS SCOTS Famous Scots in History From "Scots Who Shaped the World" by J.H. Appleton As one of Scotlands most famous sons said "Who's like us?" This small country has produced so many people of brilliance, tenacity, genius and downright dedication that we can be proud. From pioneers, scientists and inventors to writers whose words reach peoples hearts across time and distance, these distinguished Scots show the diversity of greatness produced by a noble nation. Their accomplishments and achievements have left their mark on our world and are an inspiration to us all. This list is only representative. The list of famous Scots could fill volumes. Robert Adam (1728-1792) - Architect and designer John Logie Baird (1888-1946) - Inventor of television Alexander Graham Bell (1847-1922) - Inventor of the telephone Robert the Bruce (1274-1329) - King of Scotland Robert Burns (1759-1796)- Scotland foremost poet Robert MacGregor Campbell aka Rob Roy (1671-1734) - Warrior Andrew Carnegie (1835-1919) - Steel Magnate and Philanthropist John Boyd Dunlop (1840-1921) - Perfected the pneumatic tire Sir Alexander Fleming (1881-1955) - Doctor, discovered Penicillin David Livingstone (1813-1873) - Explorer Charles Macintosh (1766-1843) - Inventor of waterproof cloth Charles Rennie Mackintosh (1866-1928) - Architect and designer Mary Queen of Scots (1542-1587) - Daughter of James V of Scotland David Niven (1909-1983) - Actor and author Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832) - Poet and writer Sir James Young Simpson (1811-1870) - Discovered Chloroform Adam Smith (1723-1790) - Political economist Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894) - Poet and novelist Thomas Telford (1757-1834) - Engineer James Watt (1736-1819) - Engineer Sir William Wallace (1270-1305) - Warrior and freedom fighter (subject of "Braveheart" movie) John Muir (1838-1914) -Ecology Hall of Fame, naturalist & wilderness explorer,founder of U.S. National Parks Service

February 23, 2003 If Music Be the Food of Love ………………… This is a song by Mary Chapin Carpenter, one of my favourite musicians. She wrote both the words and the music. The melody is lovely with strains of the mandolin in the background. Mary’s strengths lie in her ability to create subtle and effective musical arrangements that explore life’s stories, thoughts and memories. She writes all of her songs herself, and overall, her music is honest, heart felt and emotionally true in all its varying degrees. ’’What if We Went to Italy?’’ opens with a solo guitar strumming a simple and beautiful rhythm, and in a soft and wondering voice the singer asks, ’’What if we went to Italy?’’ It’s a perfect song by her that wonderfully captures the tone, as she paints the picture of a perfect escape into an enjoyable, almost existential myth. Again, the song really represents thoughts that we’ve all had for escaping our fast-paced, pop-culture world. It’s a slow, Italian flavour that always takes me into a restful, hazy mindset of reminiscence, making me wish I had the time and money to escape to Italy. ‘What if’ is a slow, dreamy and questioning escape of a song, Mary’s lyrics play like a film in your mind, her images are real and her ideas are like stars, you reach out for them and find hope in the world. Check her out- she has written some wonderful songs and I'm sure you'll love her. WHAT IF WE WENT TO ITALY – Mary Chapin-Carpenter What if we went to Italy A suitcase of books and one bag a-piece for the summer I don't speak a word of Italian Except for Campari and soda for two, how much is a Lira? Yes, a villa will do and a breeze, in Tuscany please What if we spent all of our days, improving our minds, learning new ways to be lazy It wouldn't be too much of a strain Relax after breakfast till lunch comes around Can't wait for dinner, oh, I need to lie down And refuel, out by the pool What if the ancients were lazy like us Too blissed out to paint, to sketch or to sculpt Just as relaxed as the tower of Pisa Not ever missing that old Mona Lisa What if we never got back on the plane As summer turned colder and then warmer again Losing all track of the passing of years Till it no longer mattered how long we'd been here What if we went to Italy Maybe next year, just you and me for the summer I still can't speak any Italian But words are replaced under Sienna skies By nothing so much as a nod, and a sigh, and a wish to be always like this

February 27, 2003 "A Greyhounds's Plea" My Time is up. I've race my last, they say my useful days are past; Death holds no fear - I've had two years to live, but I still have so much love to give. Just once, I would love to lie on a bed, and snuggle up to my masters head, to feel loving hands caress my back and taste the sweetness of a forbidden snack. How wonderful it would feel to run for fun, then peacefully doze when play is done. I cannot speak, but look into my eyes; in their liquid depths my gentle soul lies. My heart is noble, my needs are few all I really want is you. But, my dreams are not meant to be, for I fear the door - they're coming for me. I cannot escape, and have nowhere to hide, but my soul will run free on the other side. Karen Marfise

February 23, 2003 POETRY Dolly Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was slightly grey, It didn't have a father, just some borrowed DNA. It sort of had a mother, though the ovum was on loan, It was not so much a lambkin, as a little lamby clone. And soon it had a fellow clone, and soon it had some more, They followed her to school one day, all cramming through the door. It made the children laugh and sing, the teachers found it droll, There were far too many lamby clones, for Mary to control, No other could control the sheep, since their programs didn't vary, So the scientists resolved it all, by simply cloning Mary. But now they feel quite sheepish, those scientists unwary, One problem solved, but what to do, with Mary, Mary, Mary. The Greyhound- Ancient; Beautiful; Swift; Innocent and willing. The Greyhound- Ageless; Sleek; Dignified; A victim of its own ability. The Greyhound- Quiet; Patient; Trusting; Eager to be someone's friend. The Greyhound- Happy; Grateful; Free; Finally, free to be loved. The poem (below) is dedicated to all greyhounds less fortunate than my beloved Lucca. LIFE IN THE FAST LANE Fancy Dan was a racer, That's all that he knew. So he ran and he ran,'Til each race was through. The end of each race found him in his crate. His muzzle removed just when he ate. But loser's aren't wanted, and Dan did not win. So he went on a journey in a truck with some men. On a shadowed back road, they unlatched Dan's crate. A voice echoed, "Get out!" Fancy Dan did not wait. Enchanted with freedom, Dan ran through the night, too excited to see the truck vanish from sight. As the noon sun rose in the sky the next day, Dan couldn't find water, or a cool place to stay. Half dead from thirst, Dan did what he knew. He ran and he ran 'Til the whole day was through. Foot stinging with pain from a sharp rock that day, Dan limped to a farm—bullets sent him away. Finished licking his wounds, Dan ran on through the night. He did what he knew, though in pain, and with fright. Afraid and confused, he stopped running at last. When out of the woods came sounds from the past. The sounds were of vans, he took to the track. So he ran to the sounds that might take him back. Dan did what he knew, afraid in the night. He ran towards the sounds, but was blinded by light. When the night turned to day, and bright day was new, Fancy Dan ran no longer. His race was now through. Fancy Dan was a greyhound who ran his life through. Thrown away by his trainer when he was just two First-Footing There's a New Year's Eve tradition That all Scot’s celebrate, A superstitious ritual Foreboding this year's fate. Once midnight has been ushered in With merriment and glee, Attention turns to the front door, Awaiting anxiously. The first visitor to set his foot Across the entryway Will affect the family's fortune, Profoundly, so they say. With bated breath, the Scots hope for An unknown passerby, For a stranger carries with him A year's good luck supply. This ritual is called first-footing. The first foot must be dark-haired and he should be carrying a piece of coal. This would guarantee that a good year lay ahead! A Hogmanay (New Year’s Eve) Tradition - The Creaming of the Well The New Year dawns. The lass is awake. She's off to the well For fortune's sake. The first water drawn, The "cream of the well," Will this very day Her future foretell. A bride she will be 'Ere the year is through And who sips from her cup Will be her groom true. SHIMMERING SCOTLAND Scotland is… A treasure chest full of God's precious gems. Landscaped with green tourmaline And rolling emerald hills Wetted with rough, moonstone seas Littered with bright opal stars in its skies. Muddied with the brown Of dark, hermatite caves Dabbed with castles of spodumene grey Streaked with the violet sapphire foxglove's sway And blackened from the rage of battles With warriors bearing envy The color of jade Painted with strokes of gold in its wheat And purple amethyst in its heather Among fields that bear traces Of garnet red blood Spilled by her beloved children The Handwriting on the wall A weary mother returned from the store. Lugging groceries through the kitchen door. Awaiting her arrival was her 8-year-old son, Anxious to tell what his younger brother had done. While I was out playing and Dad was on a call, T.J. took his crayons and wrote on the wall. It's on the new paper you just hung in the den, I told him you'd be mad at having to do it again." She let out a moan and furrowed her brow, Where is your little brother right now?" She emptied her arms and with a purposeful stride, She marched to his closet where he had gone to hide. She called his full name as she entered his room, He trembled with fear - he knew that meant doom! For the next ten minutes, she ranted and raved About the expensive wallpaper and how she had saved. Lamenting all the work it would take to repair, She condemned his actions and total lack of care. The more she scolded, the madder she got, Then stomped from his room, totally distraught! She headed for the den to confirm her fears. When she saw the wall, her eyes filled with tears. The message she read pierced her soul with a dart. It said, "I love Mummy," surrounded by a heart. Well, the wallpaper remained, just as she found it, With an empty picture frame hung to surround it. A reminder to her and indeed to all, Take time to read the handwriting on the wall. Author Unknown