Susan, I don't believe having a distillery was ever illegal as such in the UK. It was the whole issue of whether or not you paid proper taxes on it that made distilling legal or not.

After the Union of the Parliaments in 1707, English revenue staff crossed the border to begin their lengthy attempts to bring whisky production under control. Ninety years later the excise laws were in such a hopeless state of confusion that no two distilleries were taxed at the same rate. Illicit distilling flourished, the smugglers seeing no good reason for paying for the privilege of making their native drink.

After a lengthy Royal Commission, the Act of 1823 sanctioned legal distilling at a duty of 2/3d (12p) per gallon for stills with a capacity of more than 40 gallons. There was a licence fee of £10 annually and no stills under the legal limit were allowed. The first distillery came into ‘official’ existence in the following year and thereafter many of the more far-sighted distillers came over on to the side of the law.

The above stuff is from the Scotch Whisky association website: http://www.scotch-whisky.org.uk/Scripts/search/searchfiles/qa-hist.htm

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(except of course in the sense that many of my dreams have taken place in it).

Okay, this made me teary.

You are so sweet. I actually meant it in another way. I meant that I often have dreams that take place in my house, which makes sense given the fact that it's been home for as long as I can remember.

Ooops. Seems I've imported schmoop where it wasn't intended, Burrell (but still, given Frances, and your expected baby, and all your dh and all...)

I'd still rather be cozy in 10 layers of clothes than sweating my ass off stark naked.

Cashmere, I keep telling myself this, over and over. I know it is true. I mind the cold, but not nearly as much as I mind the heat. Short of flaying, one can only get *so* naked.

Wheee! I just found out a piece I wrote about running in the Oakland hills got accepted into a local anthology sponsored by the city arts council. *bounce*

WhooooT for Consuela, who will probably never see this.

Timelies to the rest of ya. I just got woken up for good by the barking of the little dog next door. Check the time stamp on this... I think it may be time for a word with the neighbor, alas.

Oh, poor Theodosia. That's one of the lousiest neighbor conversations. Ugh.

Note to self: Never wake Raquel

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Heh. I missed Theo's original post, but I was just coming here to kvetch about oversleeping today, but thankfully the dog barked at something and woke me up.

Also, Victor et al....did anyone know that there's a Luchadores cartoon? Mucha Lucha! Tivo was watching it this morning.

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Note to self: Never wake Raquel

In my defense, I've only pepper-gassed a dog once, and it was rabid and *coming right at me!* And the pepper gas just made it look confused, but long enough that I could get around it. I normally don't attack people or things that wake me up. Normally.

This morning, though, I'd gone downstairs to sleep in the recliner (seems to help with the nausea) and was dreaming that I was in language class and getting increasingly frustrated...and just when I lost my temper in my dream, some books fell over on the bookshelf and woke me up! I just wish I could say they were my Greek language books.

And another skit from Free Association Theater: (pepper gas to tear gas) My husband got tear-gassed on Friday. He had a meeting downtown, and there was a student demonstration going on. The police tear-gassed the students. A group of them got on the metro still reeking of the tear gas, and my husband and his Greek colleague thus got gassed by proxy. For a second they were worried it was sarin gas, but then the Greek colleague said, "Oh, this feels like when I got tear-gassed in college!" So apparently tear-gassing students is a tradition.

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Consuela, that is so very cool!

Raquel, ay yi yi yi. I'm glad your DH wasn't too hurt, but sheesh.

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I had the choice between a protein shake this morning, and tea and pie.

No surprises there.

one can only get *so* naked

And isn't it fun???

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And what would be an appropriate quantity of whiskey to offer someone unused to it if your goal was to help her bear up under severe stress (mostly emotional), but emphatically not to make her obviously drunk?

I have been re-reading Nicholas Nickleby, which is set in about 1825, and every Tom, Dick, Harry and Miss Petowker is revivified and calmed by brandy mixed with hot water. In the case of Miss Petowker (soon to become Mrs. Lilyvick), it calms her so that she needs help standing upright at the wedding. At which point, the "sal volatile" comes out.

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every Tom, Dick, Harry and Miss Petowker is revivified and calmed by brandy mixed with hot water.

This is a tradition that should be revived. Although we could skip the hot water. I myself could use some revivification and calming.

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and if I was giving scotch to someone for the first time - a little splash of water - it take the edge off , so they don't choke.

It also opens it up. The cask strength I've had, which I'm assuming (if not, ignore me) the stuff from a family distillery would be, has been a little thick. I would've said it tasted like smoky caramel, but I'm not sure that's what I'd have said if it were my first taste of the stuff. I couldn't get anyone else to have a taste, so I can't tell you their reaction.

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First time I was given scotch, it was for medicinal purposes, and I thought it tasted like NyQuil but easier to swallow. Probably not a helpful comparison for your heroine, Susan. But I was given it straight, and about a shot of it, and it was for both emotional and physical restoration.

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