Waste not, want not – II

What a great way to save and serve at the same time! I am drawn to this for many reasons. One being the good food but another being the Scotch in this lady. 😉


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Being the child of parents who grew up in the Second World War is a mixed blessing.  “Waste not, want not” is a consequent mantra.  This, together with the Scottish tendency to watch the pennies, often leads me to thinking what I can do with something that’s past its sell-by date, and is (unless you hadn’t noticed)  a recurring theme  in what I cook.

The festive season is not just hot in McGregor, but shopping is more of a challenge:  the shops run out of things and, it seems, sometimes either the stock rotation doesn’t work, or cold chain is broken.  Or both.  We try to shop once a week – frequent trips into Robertson, our nearest town, are costly (time and petrol), so we buy enough of most things to last, including milk.

We are blessed that there is a local dairy that produces milk that reminds me of my…

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Book SchaflyWhen it became financially advantageous to have babies out of wedlock, the nuclear family was doomed.  In the last hundred years, the American family has been attacked, debased, maligned, slandered, and vilified by every facet of society. No family is safe from the official busybodies. At issue is a rebellion against any sort of moral code.

Who Killed the American Family reveals the concerted assault on the American nuclear family by many forces – feminists, judges, lawmakers, psychologists, school districts, college professors, politicians offering incentives and seeking votes, and more – opposed to the traditional American nuclear family, each with its own raison d’etre for wanting to abolish it. The wreckage of the American family leaves us with the inability to have limited government because government steps in to perform tasks formerly done by the nuclear family.



When I was a girl at home, we had a nice little newspaper called The Donley County Leader that often featured news from several towns in Donley County Texas. The part I liked was that it also featured poetry.

One column was called “Plowin’ Out the CORNERS” by Uncle Zeb. I never really knew who Zeb was, but we corresponded several times. Once I submitted a poem written by my mother and he thought it was great. Another time or two, I wrote him about what was going on in our “neck of the woods,” and he always answered me. Here is a copy of one article he wrote along with the poem I submitted.

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