Unsurprisingly, most of the pieces are machine-knitted and at a fairly fine gauge. Some pieces explore garment construction (like the piece shown left), other pieces explore the idea of "fabric". One particular piece resembles a big pink bath sponge plunged on the floor - I can admire the skill in its construction whilst at the same time reject its aesthetic, can't I? - whilst another piece looks like an upmarket version of IKEA curtains (and uses the same stitch pattern as the Summit Shawl).

My favourite pieces are the ones which add twists to so-called classic knitting: items that acknowledge their debt to generations past whilst still trying to pave the way forward.

Hans-Christian Madsen has two pieces included in the DK: Knit exhibition and I really liked both. My favourite was the pullover shown right: a traditional Icelandic yoked sweater in subtle colours - but when you get closer, you can see that the colourwork yoke incorporates unusual materials.The surface is broken up - but by texture rather than colour.

Katarina i Geil also draws upon knitting traditions - most obviously from her native Faroe Islands - but uses cables in a really organic, free-flowing way. I am also impressed by her use of embellishment and contrasting texture. One piece is handknitted(?) in rustic wool with clever crochet ornaments in silk. Sadly my photos has not turned out well nor does she have any web presence, so you will have take me at my word.

For a handknitter, DK:Knit is not the most inspiring exhibition. I can see some possibilities in the play with surface textures, but I think fashion students will find it more worthwhile. I did enjoy my chat with the friendly staff and I was alerted to a new Danish bakery in Edinburgh. Mmm, tebirkes!

The knitterly content continues tomorrow..

Yes, there is more. Oh yes, there is more.

Today is Midsummer's Eve. In Denmark they will be lighting bonfires and singing songs right now. I always miss my Danish friends and family whenever special events come around. Midsummer's Eve, or Skt. Hans Aften, is that curious Danish blend of pagan and Christian traditions. You gather with people near water - beaches are popular although many places it will be near a lake - and when dusk falls, you set fire to a big bonfire adorned with an effigy of a witch which is said to "fly to Blocksbjerg" (most Danish names for Hell are places in Germany. I kid you not). Oh, and the Danes sing. We sing whenever we can and, since Midsummer's Eve is a Big Thing, we even have a special song (although most people prefer singing the modern version).

The photo was taken in 2006, my last Skt. Hans Aften in Denmark. I'm feeling a bit nostalgic tonight - especially because I know tonight most of my Danish friends are gathered just north of Copenhagen and I would have liked to have celebrated the longest day of the year with them. The older I get the more attached I become to my personal traditions and I have lost a fair few of them in recent years. It's a bit difficult to stage a big bonfire here in Glasgow without getting arrested for disorderly conduct .. "Honest, guv, I was just celebrating Midsummer's Eve. That old woman burning up? Well, it's tradition.."

Every single square was knitted individually in moss-stitch and then sewn together before she picked up stitches, knitted an edge, cast off, and crocheted a decorative edge. (So much work. I can deal with the huge amounts of mustard yellow in the spread, in other words.) I wonder if I should drape it over our sofa.. We live in a rented flat, so some of the furniture is not exactly to our taste (particularly the pink-yellow chintz sofa).

Thank you for the comments on Becoming Less than a Magpie. After writing it, I went straight to Ravelry and started weeding out my queue. It has gone from 247 patterns queued to 77 projects queued. It feels very liberating. I know the new autumn/winter collections will be hitting the web soon, so I am prepared to see my queue get a bit longer, but I am keeping the following self-imposed rules in mind:

• Will it flatter my figure?
• Will it work with existing items in my wardrobe?
• Do I already have similar objects in my wardrobe?
• Will I get any use out of it?

In other words, I will assess concrete things like gauge and shape as well as abstract things like style and wearability. Also, I will no longer be queueing fifteen patterns when one well-chosen pattern suffices.

Style is quite abstract, isn't it? I am not fashionable (although for one brief month back in 1995 I was outrageously trendy) but I do think a lot about style. Being Danish I have grown up with a certain Nordic aesthetic - you might best know it from countless IKEA catalogues. Scandinavians like their simple lines, plenty of light and very little nonsense to their architecture/furniture/designs. A typical Danish knitting design would be something along the lines of Topstykke, Duet or Granite. Plain knitting with a little twist. On the other hand I have never been a very good Dane and I turned into an bit of an Anglophile when I was very young, cue the love of tweedy things with cables and fair-isle (or, in other words, everything Rowan). Add to that, an uncompromising love of Modernist art and design (and that pesky Scandinavian mid-century modern influence) and that is pretty much where "my style" is at.

See why my queue has shrunk so much? Yeah.

Now I'm off to wave a tiny Danish paper flag about. The Danish football team is playing their first World Cup match today and I'm slightly worried as they are meeting one of the top contenders, Holland. It is going to be tense and I still cannot knit.

I liked this little re-drawn map of Europe (and in related news, my Eurovision Pundit Podcast debút)

And BIG, MASSIVE congratulations to the Hand-Knitted Pirate who is now Doctor Hand-Knitted Pirate.

Just before Christmas our computer finally died on us. This was not totally unexpected after some emergency surgery earlier this year, but still came as a surprise as the computer had been really fine and well until we left it for a few days in order to travel to Aberdeenshire (a journey which was traumatic enough sans computer death - we were stuck on snowy roads for nearly three hours as traffic stopped moving following a black ice accident). On our return there was no response. I went out into the heavy snow to get spare parts, but spare parts did not work. We had to leave the UK knowing that our little home was without a working PC. It was not a happy thought. As you might have twigged by this very update, we have managed to bring a swanky new PC into our life and I'll end this extended metaphor before it gets out of hand.

So. Holidays, then. Aberdeenshire was snowy and cold. Denmark was surprisingly less snowy and not as cold. I had fun introducing David to Danish Christmas traditions and we all enjoyed ourselves eating far too many home-made chocolate nibbles, reading books and watching TV. On the picture on the left you can spot a bit of my parents' garden (we loved watching the variety of wildlife eating treats left for them) and also a bit of the beautifully trimmed Yule tree (spot my mum's folded stars? She's thinking of doing craft fairs next year).

We also made it to Copenhagen where the lovely Kirsten Marie graciously let us borrow her flat. This was a real treat as I usually see an insane amount of people whenever I'm in Copenhagen and do not really get to spend time in a city I called home for twelve years. Last time I saw 19 people in three days. This time we saw three people in 1-and-a half days. The rest of the time we just walked around the city, shot a few photos, walked some more, defrosted our cold bodies with super-expensive coffee (I had forgotten how expensive Denmark is!) and walked even more. Yarn shops may also have been involved, but more on that in a later post. Finally we made it out to regular blog commentator Darth Ken's flat for yummy food and great conversation. I continue to be ambivalent about my erstwhile home, but I cannot deny it was great just letting myself relax into a familiar space.

Scotland is still snowy, dammit. It is also really, really cold in our flat and I may have given in to this "heating the flat" thing because I'm almost wearing as much indoors as I am when I go outside. And we have a swanky new computer! Tomorrow's New Year's Eve (Hogmanay) and we are determined to have a very quiet night after the rather leisuredly busy Christmas.

So, tomorrow: an FO, some new yarn and a tiny bit about something else.

"Denmark is losing its reputation for being a good world citizen." - Naomi Klein

Danish police arrest 150 demonstrators as world leaders arrive at Copenhagen conference. Mainstream groups such as Friends of the Earth have been barred from the conference centre ("Every delegate from the international environmental campaign group arrived at the centre this morning to find their badges were no longer valid."). This follows the highly controversial preventive arrests by Danish police earlier this week, the arrest of a German spokesman for Climate Justice action, police raids on climate campaigners and, lest we forget, a warm welcome for President Mugabe by Danish PM Lars Løkke Rasmussen.

"The Copenhagen conference is fast becoming an international shambles." - Andy Atkins

For me, I welcomed the incredulity on the BBC news readers' faces as they interviewed a spokesperson, Henrik Suhr,  for the Danish police force, the use of "preventive arrests" and Mr Suhr's insistence that "if you do not want to be arrested, you should not be demonstrating" (let me draw your attention to the UN's own Universal Declaration of Rights and, in particular, Articles 19 and 20). The BBC journalists' reaction were very different to the type of journalism I had grown used to in Denmark in the last decade or so.

And as I'm typing this, a climate deal seems increasingly unlikely.

I miss my Danish friends. I miss meeting up with them for coffee and croissant. I miss the easy chatter which comes with fifteen years (and then some) of friendship. I miss getting on my bike and making my way home together with thousands of other cyclists. I miss the recycling system, my favourite cinema and buying proper pastries. I miss the cobbled streets, the public fountains, the neon signs and watching the New Year's fireworks displays.

Thank heavens I'm off to Denmark soon. That usually cures any amount of homesickness. And I am not fooling myself, anyway. If I were to return to Denmark, I would miss Scotland. I would miss having easy access to any book I wanted, the BBC, dramatic landscapes, the easy-going attitude, my lovely neighbourhood and a certain sense of freedom. Swings and roundabouts, dear reader, swings and roundabouts.

Yesterday we went craft fair hopping. First, we visited the Glasgow Craft Fair Mafia at Mono, then we headed back to our own neighbourhood where The De Courcy Arcade has undergone a facelift and a slew of new quirky boutiques have opened showcasing handmade gifts and vintage fashion. It felt like I spent the entire afternoon living in Etsy-land: little owls, ironic embroidery and felted flowers ..

.. and I realised I wasn't enchanted. I can partly blame the old "I could make that myself" attitude and partly that I am a crafter myself and know what well-finished items should look like. The stern Scandinavian in me was particularly blind to the virtues of an ironic embroidered portrait of Dolly Parton or Burt Reynolds.  I fear I am too old to be a irony-embracing hipster or maybe I have just started living by William Morris' creed: "Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful".

I'm homesick and I'm grumpy.

This entry's by request..

Starting on the fourth Sunday before Christmas, Danes will open so-called "advent presents" and light a candle in their advent krans (I have not made an advent krans since the year one caught fire in my Copenhagen flat and nearly burned down the house). The presents are usually small - I have been known to find novelty socks in my parcels.

However, my gran has obviously decided that a "small present" equals giving me 11 (ELEVEN) balls of yummy DK-weight superwash wool in a rather fetching shade of red. She's included a pattern for a yoked cardigan too. I have three more parcels to go. I dread to think what she might have come up with. Incidentally David found a handknitted beanie in his advent present. I seem to spot a theme..

(Sorry about the '80s feel about this photo - it was the best I could do in order to capture the colour)

The advent calendar is a variation upon a theme. When I was very young, I would get a julekalender instead, much like the one Linn is blogging about. Twenty-four tiny parcels, one for each day leading up to Christmas. The presents were tiny - maybe a pencil or a piece of chocolate - but they served their purpose. I got out of bed on time and I kept track of how many days I had to wait until Christmas.

Linn mentions something which I really miss here in Scotland: the calendar candle (not to be confused with the advent krans). One candle with numbers 1 to 24 clearly marked and each day you burn away one number. Just before December 1st, you make a "juledekoration" to really display the candle (I have fond memories of going to the woods with my family and finding materials for these things) and then each night as you are having dinner or tea, you light the candle. The trick is to get the right size candle so you do not burn away the numbers too quickly or slowly.

And the final way of counting the days? The televised yule calendar. Yup, twenty-four episodes of a special Christmas children's show with one episode shown per day. It's usually about how Christmas is in danger for one reason or another.. You'd get a royal version with princesses and Christmas gnomes,one taking place in Greenland, a puppet version, a 19th century version and, well, one for the grown-ups (all YouTube links and, yes, Danes are very fond of singing..)

Any particular Christmas traditions in your family or in your culture?

In more personal news, my aunt died this week and my family attended her funeral in rural Denmark today. Although she was a distant relative of mine - I think I met her four or five times - I am very sad on behalf of her siblings, her daughter and her grandson. Rest in peace.

And while I was pondering writing about my life and how it has changed these past ten years, I have decided against doing so. I am amused to note, though, that the Noughties are bookended by me sitting in a dreich Scottish city during November lamenting the lack of double-glazing and proper heating. In 2000 I sat in Stirling (also known as "Hellmouth" - after living there I swore I'd never return to Scotland) and here in 2009 I am sitting in Glasgow. I hope to finish the next decade sitting somewhere warm and sunny. Ha.

Finally, Other Half and I watched a snippet of a BBC programme last night about the Orient Express. We decided that a jolly little train trip would be good fun at some point in the not-too-distant future and today I checked just how much such a jolly little train trip would set us back. £3,700 for the both of us for a jolly little train trip lasting maybe 36 hours and not including any extra frills. I think we may need to rethink that holiday idea.

15. What is the most difficult book you’ve ever read?

This is being written whilst I’m gritting my teeth: Ben Marcus’ The Age of Wire and String. It’s a very, very short novel. I spent a month reading it. Then Stupid Boyfriend said: “Oh. Did you try to make sense of it? I didn’t. I just read it for the beautiful words.”

&/#”/! The book was excellent, actually, and said really interesting things about ritual language and how language acquires meaning. I am never going to read it again.

That question/answer and thirty-one others can be found at The Reading Survey which I have posted as a static page as it is too long to post here.

Thank you for all your well-wishing. I am still under the weather and have developed a nasty cough. This means I'll miss out on tonight's Guy Fawkes events but there will be others.

Also, in case you have not read it, this little post by Ysolda Teague summed up everything I wanted to say today (and it reminded me that I need to make a batch of Apple Butter as Casa Bookish's usual supply from the St. Alban Church Fete has finally run low after I have been unable to attend/stock up for several years).