For This I Am Thankful

“His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their latter end, upon all the living and the dead.”

It is snowing outside (again!) and I am reminded of James Joyce's wonderful short story "The Dead" (found in Dubliners and made into a beautiful film by John Huston). Even if you are the sort who shudder at the thought of James Joyce, give "The Dead" a chance. It is exquisite - and also the snowiest story I can imagine (something which may sound nonsensical but if you read it, you'll understand).

Earlier this week I was given my first birthday present. I do not write much about what it was like moving from Denmark to Scotland - but it was an uneasy transition and I found it somewhat difficult to build up a new network of friends. So, when I was given an unexpected birthday present by my Glasgow circle of friends, this act of friendship felt particularly poignant. The present? All the wool I need to make Flyte. It feels slightly overwhelming, if in a good way.

(Related: I am trying to find buttons for my Forecast cardigan (which is knitting up nicely, hence much radio silence). I went to John Lewis and discovered that ten buttons would cost me almost as much as all the wool for the cardi. That's not an option. I have looked at Textile Garden, eBay, Etsy, Bedecked, Pavi Yarns and Ribbon Moon. Any other places I should look?)

Finally, I have found yet another t-shirt I feel I should own, I pity this poor dog (although I'm also slightly amused by the Poodle Ninja Turtle-Leonardoodle), and I'm keeping a close eye on Academic Earth in case anything fun turns up. And, of course, CityPoem Copenhagen..

Oh! You Pretty Thing!

The weather was very kind to me today. Everything turned out to be super-photogenic. Who needs an expensive DSLR camera when you have neigh-perfect light and location? Okay, so the frilly bit is a tiny bit out of focus.. But I digress.

This is my third finished object of 2009. It's a triangular shawl with an interesting lacy frill. It's very pretty, quite girly and thus not meant for me.

However, I have pattern notes and plan to knit another one, and then possibly I'll make the pattern available as a free download (Other Half seems to think I should). It's a relatively easy knit and I'm thinking its play with textures and volume also make it slightly more on-trend than many triangular lace shawls. Hmm.. something to ponder.

The rest of today will be spent sorting my stash and my knitting bags. I plan on making Forecast (I really like this version, just like the rest of the world, and this one) because a) if we are going to Southern Poland in March, I'll need a warm cardigan and b) I'm going use a pattern this time (she says looking at the Ever-Expanding Grey Pullover). I have some very pretty forest green wool in my stash which is begging to made into a warm cardigan. But first I'm going to be a good girl and get all organise-y on the tonnes of stray balls in the living room.

Twenty-Five

20. I'm allergic to pistachio nuts if I eat more than a pound in less than 30 minutes.

That fact and twenty-four other exciting and essential factoids about your bloggerista (i.e. me) can be found here. I was tagged to do it on a certain social networking site and thought I'd share the pain.

Aye Write '09

The Aye Write literary festival lineup is pretty good - and for the first time since I moved to "Glasga", I can actually go! I have booked tickets to see Jonathan Coe and Andrew Crumey in conversations with Rodge Glass and I'm rather excited. You must understand that I've been used to the Copenhagen Book Fair where we got celebrity chefs and D-list reality stars flogging their books (with the occasional AS Byatt thrown in for good measure). Aye Write! is considerably more my thing. Coe is one of my favourite contemporary authors and I'm in the process of becoming a Crumey convert.

Also, a big thank you to some of my Glasgow friends who floored me the other day with their kindness, thoughtfulness and generosity. You guys rock. You really do.

Into the Woods

Yes, I know I said stuff about knitting with grey wool. The phrases "never again", "not in the winter months" and "I need colour!!!!!" may have passed my lips. But I've changed my mind.

The pattern is Norwegian Woods by Sivia Harding. Earlier this year I knitted a few repeats of it in the gawjuss Old Maiden Aunt silk/merino yarn I have stashed away. I was flippant, made a few too many mistakes and ripped it all out. Now I'm knitting the shawl in Snældan's 1-ply wool (Faroese wool mixed with a touch of Falkland Islands wool - and spun on the Faroe Islands!). I'll blog more about the shawl as it progresses.

As you can see from the photo, it is snowing in Glasgow today. South-east England has had a couple of inches of snow and they are panicking. Silly people (sayeth this Scandinavian gal) For once I don't mind the snow so much and it made for a great photo opportunity this morning. Right now I'm still seeing ginormous snowflakes hurling towards the ground.

A couple of links (because my links folder is bursting at its seams). + I really want this t-shirt. + Is there anything Barack Obama cannot do? Well, I'm not too hot on his poetry. Dare I say it? I write better poetry than him? I do. + Great photos of London from above (thanks, Molly) + A bit more heavy-going than I usually get here: We Who Are Left Behind: Poetry as Testimony in Derrida and Celan. + Amazing Flickr photo-stream: Lars Daniel. He makes me miss Copenhagen even more. + Type as Image. It does wot it sez on teh tin.

Have a lovely day - with or without snow.

In Her Soft Wind I Will Whisper

Lady on the left? My great-grandmother. She would have been ninety-three today. The photo was taken in the early 1950s outside her cottage and she is with two of her sons, K and T.

I have several photos of her; my other favourite is from the 1930s when she was approached by a travelling salesman who wanted her to become a hair model. I presume she shot him one of her withering glances. The photo shows her with long, gorgeous hair. I was told it was chestnut-coloured.

I was lucky enough to grow up around her. She minded me when I was pre-kindergarten and I spent most of my school holidays in her cottage. Her cottage did not have running water until I was maybe seven or eight and never got central heating. I can still envision her sitting in her chair in front of the kerosene-fuelled stove. She'd knit long garter stitch strips from yarn scraps and sew them into blankets. I think she was the one who taught me to knit. She was certainly the one who taught me how to skip rope.

Happy birthday, momse. We may not always have seen eye to eye, but we loved and understood each other. And I still miss you.

Title comes from this beautiful farewell song (youtube link).