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  • And I’ll have the Spotted Dick

    Spotted dick is a traditional British pudding made from mutton fat mixed with other ingredients, such as baking soda, flour, molasses, corn syrup, or nutmeg. You add raisins or other bits of dried fruit to this dough and you have “spots.” The dish is steamed, boiled, or, as in the recipe below, baked, and served with custard sauce.

    Like Scottish haggis, Spotted Dick is kind of a joke food, especially to Americans. Like haggis, you can also find Spotted Dick in a can (Heinz), making it a not infrequent gag gift (again, especially for Americans). Unlike haggis, though, in this American’s opinion, Spotted Dick is really quite delicious.

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  • Almost safe in Dover

    When can you let down your guard when you travel? In your hotel room? On public transport? At passport control? When you’re in a group? Never?

    The tea was hot, the cream seemed fresh as I shared my digestives with Alec, the terrorist. I’d been waiting for him in the Dover tea shop for twenty minutes, and now we sat huddled in a booth, our backpacks slumped against the wall. We poured tea into cups and ate the sweet, graham-crackery biscuits like grateful refugees.

    I was glad to be back in an English-speaking country. In Salerno, Italy, I’d seen the headline, “E MORTO IL PAPA!” It was August of 1978 and Pope Paul VI had just died. People would be rushing to Rome and St. Peter’s Square; it was time to hightail it home. Alec stroked his teacup, keeping his eyes on the table.

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  • Introduction

    These 40 essays, lists, recipes, poems, and songs cover my eleven trips to the United Kingdom and Ireland over 43 years. Perhaps I’ll go again, perhaps not, but I wanted to record what I could remember and while I had a quieter, less-traveled few years to write.

    My first trip as a recent college graduate was in the summer of 1971 with my draft-dodging college boyfriend. The most recent trip was in 2014, with my writing buddy Kathy Herbert. Some trips were short, some were longer, the longest being a four-week visit as part of a teachers’ workshop in 1978. Sometimes a trip centered on a conference, such as the 1978 Infant School workshop in Abingdon, Oxfordshire, or the 2012 La Leche League of Great Britain Conference in Coventry, Warwickshire.

    Literary elegance at the Albion Beatnik Cafe, Oxford

    When relevant, I mention dates, seasons, or companions, but otherwise many trips run together in memory; thus, I simply alphabetized the essays, mixing chronologies and subjects. You’ll find an index in the Appendices.

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  • All that walking!

    A sculpture of three women stands outside a home in a small village on the edge of western England’s Haworth moor. Diane Lawrenson’s life-size bronze sculpture group portrays the Brontë sisters, Anne, Charlotte, and Emily, occupants of that surprisingly creative family parsonage.

    A welcoming sign outside a tearoom in modern-day Haworth

    According to the Brontë Society1 web site (bronte.org.uk), Haworth back in the 1800s was a “crowded industrial town, polluted, smelly and wretchedly unhygienic.” Haworth has since cleaned itself up and now [2011] features charming stone buildings and cobbled streets, tea shops and bakeries, tourist trinket shops, and parking areas for the bus tours. Once outside of town, however, the surrounding countryside can be a muddy mess, especially in mid-November when I visited.

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  • Index, N-Z

    N

    Nazis. Going to Guernsey

    Northern Ireland. Is Ulster the same as Northern Ireland? in Appendices

    novels. All that walking! and Literacy through Mills & Boon

    O

    oasis. The bee-loud glade, Cream tea in Bettys Tearooms, and Scone by jammy scone

    occupation, Nazi. Going to Guernsey

    onion gravy. Dressing, among other things, the English “chip”

    opening times. Breakfasting at Starbucks when abroad. Really?

    Oxford. Jack Kerouac and Jack Mormons at the Beatnik Café

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  • Index, A-M

    Listed alphabetically by subject, then essay or item title where found

    A

    Adventures of Peter Rabbit, The. Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Beatrix

    Albion Beatnik Café. Jack Kerouac and Jack Mormons at the Beatnik Café

    Algren, Nelson. Jack Kerouac and Jack Mormons at the Beatnik Café

    archaeology. Heart attacks at Sutton Hoo and A Jane Austen cup of tea

    art. Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Beatrix; Gassed; Going to Guernsey; Meeting at St. Pancras Station;

                When shades of grey outnumber the green

    artists. All that walking!, Gassed, Going to Guernsey, When shades of grey outnumber the green

    Austen, Jane. A Jane Austen cup of tea and Show me the money

    Austenland. A Jane Austen cup of tea

    B

    baked goods. And I’ll have the Spotted Dick, Jammie Dodger Dictionary, Scone by jammy scone

    bank notes. Show me the money

    baths. A Jane Austen cup of tea

    beaches. As I was going to St. Ives and Seaside Resorts

    Beatnik, Albion, Café. Jack Kerouac and Jack Mormons at the Beatnik Café

    beats/beatniks. Chronological Beats and Jack Kerouac and Jack Mormons at the Beatnik Café

    Welcome to the official home of Peter RabbitBeauvoir, de, Simone. Jack Kerouac and Jack Mormons at the Beatnik Café

    bees. The bee-loud glade and Rejected suitors take to roaming like unhived bees

    Bell, Acton, Currer, and Ellis. All that walking!

    Belmont, Frederick and Claire. Cream tea in Bettys Tearooms

    Bettys Tearooms. Cream tea in Betty’s Tearooms

    Birnham Arts Conference Centre. Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Beatrix

    Blacker, Norma. The Coventry Blitz

    Blacker, Reginald (Norma’s husband). The Coventry Blitz

    Blackwell Books. When shades of grey outnumber the green

    blitz. The Coventry Blitz

    Book of Kells. Before Gutenberg

    bookstores. When shades of grey outnumber the green

    Boots, Meeting at St. Pancras Station

    breakfast. Breakfasting at Starbucks when abroad. Really?, Curtains poem and essay;

                Hostels, then and a later then; Introduction; Jammy Dodges Dictionary, Show me the money

    British Museum. Heart attacks at Sutton Hoo and Hostels, then and a later then

    Brontë, Anne. All that walking!

    Brontë, Branwell. All that walking!

    Brontë, Charlotte. All that walking!

    Brontë, Emily. All that walking!

    Brontë, Patrick. All that walking!

    Brontë Society. All that walking!

    brown sauce. Dressing, among other things, the English “chip”

    Bruce’s Beach. Seaside resorts

    Budica, Queen. Hostels, then and a later then

    burial mounds. Heart attacks at Sutton Hoo

    burren. The bee-loud glade and Beneath Ireland

    Butzer, Fritz. See Frederick Belmont

    C

    Cardiff Bay. Merthyr Tydfill

    Caernarfon Castle. Introduction.

    Castle Cornet. Going to Guernsey

    castles. Going to Guernsey and Introduction

    caving. Beneath Ireland

    Channel Islands. Going to Guernsey

    chavs. Cream tea in Bettys Tearooms

    chips. Dressing, among other things, the English “chip”

    chutney. Dressing, among other things, the English “chip”

    Civil War, American. An Gorta Mór

    Clare, County. Beneath Ireland

    class. Curtains, Feeling very American and A Jane Austen cup of tea

    clotted cream. Cream tea at Bettys Tearooms

    Coleman’s mustard. Dressing, among other things, the English “chip”

    condiments. Dressing, among other things, the English “chip”

    Condorferries. Going to Guernsey

    Cottage, Anne Hathaway’s. To be or not to be Anne

    County Clare, Beneath Ireland

    Coventry, Warwickshire. The Coventry Blitz

    Coventry Transport Museum. The Coventry Blitz

    crannogs. Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Beatrix

    cream tea. Cream tea in Bettys Tearooms

    culture, British. Movies and television dramas of World War I

    currency. Show me the money

    D

    Day, Paul. Meeting at St. Pancras Station

    desserts. And I’ll have the Spotted Dick

    Dick, Spotted. And I’ll have the Spotted Dick

    digestives. Almost safe in Dover and Hostels, then and a later then

    Dillon, Edwin Cole. Appendices title page and Introduction

    Dillon, Elkanah. An Gorta Mór

    Dillon, Montgomery Malone. Appendices title page; (metal band of) Hostels, then and a later then

    Dillon, Samuel Alexander. Dedication, Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Beatrix, Introduction,

                Scone by jammy scone

    Dillon family history. Nibbling Ireland, Scone by jammy scone

    divorce. Scone by jammy scone

    Dix, John Ross. An Gorta Mór

    Donegal. Ireland’s Forgotten County in Appendices

    Doolin, County Clare, Ireland. Beneath Ireland

    Dorset County Museum. Rejected suitors take to roaming like unhived bees

    Dover. Almost safe in Dover, Ripple of the Blue Tattoos

    Dublin. Before Gutenburg

    Dunbar, East Lothian, Scotland. Feeling very American at John Muir’s birthplace

    E

    Eagle and Child pub, Jack Kerouac and Jack Mormons at the Beatnik Café

    Elephant & Castle shopping centre and metro stop. Hostels, then and a later then

    Elephant House. Scone by jammy scone

    Eurostar high-speed rail service. Meeting at St. Pancras Station

    F

    famine, potato. An Gorta Mór

    Fat Rascal. Cheeky rascals at Church of the Holy Trinity and Cream tea at Bettys Tearooms

    feminism. All that walking!

    franchises. Breakfasting at Starbucks when abroad. Really? and Meeting at St. Pancras Station

    French fries. Dressing, among other things, the English “chip”

    Fruend, Cora Esther Pell. Introduction

    Fry, Elizabeth Gurney. Show me the money

    G

    Georgian period and style. A Jane Austen cup of tea

    ghosts. To be or not to be Anne

    Gollum, Poll na. Beneath Ireland

    gorta mór, an. An Gorta Mór [An is “the” in Gaelic]

    grandmothers. Introduction

    Cultural Explainers: The Story Behind Thomas HardyGreat Blight, The. An Gorta Mór

    Great Hunger, The. An Gorta Mór

    Great War, The. Gassed

    green, shades of. When shades of grey outnumber the green

    Grossman, Helen Jane Burket. Introduction

    Guernsey Island. Going to Guernsey

    Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society novel.

                Going to Guernsey

    Gurney, Elizabeth. See Elizabeth Fry

    Gutenberg, Johannes. Before Gutenberg.

    H                                                           Thomas Hardy

    Hardy, Thomas. Rejected suitors take to roaming like unhived bees

    Harry Potter books. Scone by jammy scone

    Hathaway, Anne. Cheeky Rascals and To be or not to be Anne.

    Hauteville House. Going to Guernsey

    Haworth, West Yorkshire. All that walking!

    Heinz Tomato Ketchup. Dressing, among other things, the English “chip”

    helmet, Anglo-Saxon. Heart attacks at Sutton Hoo

    Herdwich sheep. Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Beatrix

    HP [Houses of Parliament] Sauce. Dressing, among other things, the English “chip”

    hill art. Standing in the eye of the White Horse

    Hill Top Farm. Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Beatrix

    Hole of Gollum. Beneath Ireland

    hostels. Hostels, then and a later then

    hotels. Hotel is in a great location

    housing. Hostels, then and a later then

    Hugo, Victor-Marie. Going to Guernsey

    I

    ichthyosaurs. There once was an ichthyosaurus

    immigration, to America. Feeling very American at John Muir’s birthplace, An Gorta Mór, Izzy’s Song;

                immigration to the UK. Cream tea in Bettys Tearooms

    Imperial War Museum. Gassed

    Inklings. Jack Kerouac and Jack Mormons at the Beatnik Café

    Innisfree, Isle of. The bee-loud glade

    innit? Cream tea in Bettys Tearooms

    Infant School Workshop. Introduction, Standing in the eye of the White Horse

    introverts. All that walking!, The bee-loud glade, Jack Kerouac and Jack Mormons at the Beatnik Café    Iona abbey, island, and monastery. Before Gutenberg

    Isle of Man. Appendices

    J

    Jack Mormons. Jack Kerouac and Jack Mormons at the Beatnik Café

    Jane Austen Centre. George III | Biography, Madness, & Facts | BritannicaA Jane Austen cup of tea

    John, Elton. Meeting at St. Pancras Station

    Jurassic Coast. Seaside resorts, There once was an ichthyosaurus

    K

    karst, limestone. Beneath Ireland

    Kells, Book of. Before Gutenberg.

    Kerouac, Jack. Jack Kerouac and Jack Mormons at the Beatnik Café

    Killin, Perthshire, Scotland. Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Beatrix

    kings. A Jane Austen cup of tea

    L

    Lake Isle of Innisfree. The bee-loud glade

    Lawrenson, Diane. All that walking!                                                                  King George III

    lifeguards. Seaside resorts

    literacy. Literacy through Mills & Boon

    Loch Tay. Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Beatrix

    London. Hostels, then and a later then

    loneliness. Meeting St. Pancras Station, Scone by jammy scone, When shades of grey

    Lord of the Rings. Beneath Ireland

    Lumper potato. An Gorta Mór

    M

    Manhattan Beach, California. Seaside resorts

    Man/Mann, Isle of. So, the Isle of Man is a British Isle, but . . . “ in Appendices

    manuscripts, illuminated. Before Gutenberg

    Marks & Spencer. Meeting at St. Pancras Station.

    John Muir National Historic Sitemarriage. All that walking! A Jane Austen cup of tea, Scone by      jammy scone, To be or not to be Anne

    Mars bar. Beneath Ireland

    General Meager. Paddy’s Lament (part of An Gorta Mór)

    Mills & Boon. Literacy through Mills & Boon

    Mitchell, Alexander. Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Beatrix

    Montague, Isabel Bridget. Izzy’s Song

    Moore, Noel. Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Beatrix.

    moveable type. Before Gutenberg

    Muir, Daniel. Feeling very American at John Muir’s birthplace

    Muir, John. Feeling very American at John Muir’s birthplace

    music. Meeting at St. Pancras Station

    mustard. Dressing, among other things, the English “chip” mustard gas. Gassed                                     

  • TH SCONE DIARIES Table of Contents

    My recently completed writing collection THE SCONE DIARIES is made up of 40 essays, lists, songs, glossaries, dictionaries, and chronologies based on my eleven (so far) trips to the United Kingdom and Ireland from 1971 through 2014. I will start publishing this collection here starting in December 2022. A index (though without page numbers) will be published next to clarify subject matter.

    All that walking! Haworth, West Yorkshire, England
    Almost safe in Dover. Dover, Kent, England
    And I’ll have the Spotted Dick. Weymouth, Dorset, England
    As I was walking to St. Ives. St. Ives, Cornwall, England
    The bee-loud glade. County Clare, Ireland, England
    Before Gutenberg. Dublin, Ireland
    Beneath Ireland. County Clare, Ireland
    Breakfasting at Starbucks when abroad. Really? Bath, Somerset, England
    Cheeky Rascals at Church of the Holy Trinity. Stratford-upon-Avon, Warwickshire, England
    The Coventry Blitz. London and Coventry, England
    Cream tea in Bettys Tearooms. York, Yorkshire, England
    Curtains, poem and essay. Oxford, Oxfordshire, England

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  • President Still Missing. Day 11.

    It was the headline of the San Juan Record, and my friends and I were finishing our ham and eggs at PJ’s Restaurant in Monticello. We were the second shift for breakfast. Monticello was really struggling to handle the 250 journalists, cops, and Secret Service folks in town. PJ’s is still for sale, by the way, if you’re interested.

    “What the hell happened?” This was my newspaper buddy Hal from the Salt Lake Tribune. We were sharing a room together with three other people at the Motel 6. Housing was tight. Really tight. As in people sharing rooms at hotels and private homes, even the temple and the BLM offices were renting sleeping space. People who never would have even spoken to each other before this were together, sharing bathroom sinks and toilets. Republicans, Democrats, Greens, Libertarians, Socialists, conspiracy theorists, TV and radio pundits. All spread around PJ’s and other Monticello restaurants. Subway even began serving breakfast on Day 4 of the President’s disappearance. We were even pouring coffee for each other sometimes, for gods sake. (more…)

  • Murder at the B&B. An Ophelia Perhaps Mystery.

    Really, Really Dead.  

    Dead. He was dead. No doubt about it. He was really, really dead.

    I now sat at the desk of the intake officer, where his computer was taking forever to upload some forms. Vaguely glancing at the photos of him fishing in Scotland or somewhere equally cold and bleak, I was struggling to concentrate on the day. After years of asking my neighbors and friends about details of their own mysteries, here I was feeling foggy about events.

    I did remember that I knew something had been wrong as soon as I’d reached the upstairs landing upstairs in my B&B. First of all, I could hear Wandering Jack yowling. He never yowls unless I’m there and he’s hungry. I had turned the key in the lock, but it was already unlocked. And Jack was yowling. My neck hairs stood on end.

    I opened the door slowly, knowing you should never enter a room if your neck hairs are on end. I pushed the door so just my head was inside, another thing you shouldn’t do as I thought it over days later. I walked inside a few feet, which I should not have done. My left foot nudged a shoe, a Nike tennis shoe just like Robert . . . That’s when I knew it was him. That wanker! He was supposed to be gone! Had he drunk all my liquor and passed out? Or had a stroke like his mum? Or . . .

    But then there was the smell. Like the time I’d found a bloated squirrel in the water trough at Grandpa’s farm. Grandpa had told me, “See, Feely, that will happen to you if you play around the horse trough!” He’d also once pointed out to me a flattened snake in the middle of their road.” “That will happen to you, Missy,” he’d said, “if you cross the street without looking.”

    And now here was my ex-husband, sprawled not in a horse trough or in the middle of a street, but there on my red-rose patterned carpet. I’d been gone since before daylight to get into line to see the new Egyptian art exhibit at the Ashmolean. My ex was supposed to pick up the cat at 9 that same morning. He had a key. It was all arranged.

    But here it was 6 in the evening, Jack was locked inside his carrier, which was sitting on the couch, and there was Robert in shorts, a T-shirt, and Nikes, dressed like he’d just come in from running or was just about to go running.

    But he was not out running or about to go anywhere. He was dead. Drool out of his mouth dead. One eye half-open dead. One arm flung behind him dead. Hair a mess dead. Not sleeping, not just passed out drunk, but dead. He would have woken up at my screams if he hadn’t been dead. At least I think that was me screaming. Maybe it was Sarala screaming, I can’t remember.

    This wasn’t like an episode of Law and Order, an enormously popular American TV series over here. I couldn’t call up the exact order of things like the TV actors. I couldn’t even exactly recall when I’d last seen Robert, things I knew this British cop would be asking me. I was in a numbing humid daze, like I was watching someone else open the door and enter the room. Maybe Law and Order scriptwriters had never seen anybody really, really dead.

    But now Robert was dead. Like the squirrel and the snake. Really, really dead.

  • Christmas in Floy

    It was Christmas in Floy

    Exit 175 at yuletide

    Visions of I-70 semis through the electric fog

    A great icy pie crust rolled out over four and twenty black brush.

     

    A Doctor Zhivago landscape

    But no good-looking non-Russian actors like in the 1965 movie

    Or good-looking non-Russian actors like in the 2002 TV miniseries

    No Egyptian Omar Sharif or Scottish Hans Matheson as Yuri

    Just an American wanderer in a giant stadium coat and a thick red, wool scarf;

    My KEEN boots barely grip the ice around my car. (more…)