Jane Smith Please read this if you know her (or are her).

[caliwag]

In my trusty Chambers dictionary (knocks spots of Oxford!) to Kell means to cool (Shakasp) and therefore to chill...does that fit the above? :roll:

 

[Nemesis]

Keel might also mean stir, derived from the boat with paddle/oar?

http://www.sunnisidelocalhistorysociety.co.uk/keelboats.html

http://www.northeastengland.talktalk.net/Newcastle%20upon%20Tyne%20History.htm

But also cool:

http://www.thefreedictionary.com/keel

keel 3 (kl)
tr.v. keeled, keel·ing, keels Chiefly British
To make cool.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Middle English kelen, from Old English clan, to cool; see gel- in Indo-European roots.]

Re: Keel the pot
Posted by Bruce Kahl on November 28, 2007

In Reply to: Keel the pot posted by Mark Hammond on November 28, 2007

: Does anyone know what "While greasy Joan doth keel the pot" means ? A phrase taken from Shakespeare's poem Winter, from Love's Labour's Lost. Have tried to find info on Shakespeare's phrases sites but not listed.

Keel has many meanings one of which is a brewer's cooling vat.
The German is kiihlen, Old English celan.
Joan is pouring in cold water to cool off the pot to avoid a boil over.

So while all else is trying to keep warm, Joan is trying to cool something? Hmmmm.



http://www.onlineshakespeare.com/glossaryal.htm

KEEL - to skin

But yes but no but:

http://www.thecnj.co.uk/camden/2007/110807/rosehacker110807.html

One, last month, was a lunch celebrating the International Women of the Year Awards.
There were more than 400 eminent women, all with great achievements behind them.
Observing the glamorous crowd in the smart hotel, it seemed initially that very few came from families where, as Shakespeare describes in Loves Labour’s Lost, “greasy Joan did keel the pots” (cooking stew to last through the arriving winter).
Not only did greasy Joans slave in basements, they also dragged buckets of coal upstairs to bedrooms, so that their employers’ children could watch the glow of the coal fire on their ceilings, and carried ash and rubbish down. There was no consideration of the fact that those girls who had to keep the home fires burning were people. Although there was often genuine friendship between nannies and children in their care, there was a real hierarchy of staff beneath stairs.
Reflecting, I realised that this lunch illustrated how class structure appears to have changed out of all recognition but appearances can be deceptive. Many of the beautifully dressed, elegant ladies around me had actually been “greasy Joans”, scouring not only pots but potties and even responsible for clearing up the mess their husbands made.
Some of the “greasy Joans” of my childhood had now become part-time carers or cleaners who, like their employers, sometimes went out to restaurants. Thanks to supermarkets and charity shops the “greasy Joans” could look as smart as or smarter than their employers, though rarely earning anywhere near as much and probably paying more tax.

 

[Penners]

Thanks everyone. So the concensus appears to be that Greasy Joan was a forerunner to Clarence Birdseye. Using the cold weather to chill a pot of something sustaining, so that it would keep longer.

Conservation in another guise, eh?