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.

I wish I could say that I knew exactly which cardigan calls for those oak buttons, but my knitting mojo has gone AWOL. I'm about to graft the toe of the first Monkey sock, but my Frankie Says .. pullover is languishing in my knitting bag. I love the pattern, I love the yarn but I'm beginning to have second thoughts regarding the shape of the pullover. I'm, well, "top-heavy", as the professionals say, and I'm unsure whether a cropped pullover in quite heavy silk/cotton will do my figure any favours. I'm beginning to eye Blithe from Rowan 47, but I'm not quite ready to change my project just yet. I might need to talk this over with my knitting group.

Moving on.

I was disappointed in humanity when I came across this MetaFilter post about a recently discovered mass grave in England discovering during work on the 2012 Olympics site. The grave contained over fifty beheaded Vikings, possibly killed during the St. Brice's Day massacre in 1002AD. My disappointment arose after reading several MeFi comments of the "Vikings, LOL!" variety. I know this may come as a surprise to people who generally know Vikings as bloodthirsty barbarians from films, comics or Christian monks' annals, but, hey, they were actual human beings.  Actual human beings who were my ancestors and I fail to find the funny side in beheadings or mass-graves. Show some respect, please. The only good thing that came of the entire Viking thread on MeFi was a link to Star Wars re-written as a saga .. in Old Norse. Now that's hardcore.

Finally, I'm trying to decide whether to go see A Single Man or, ahem, Legion. I need to make my mind up quickly as I suspect neither will be shown in cinemas for much longer..

Wall behind the Hunterian Art Gallery and most likely part of the Glasgow University Campus

I have a real weakness for old bricks. They come in all sorts of colours depending upon where they were made; they can be handmade or marked with the manufacturer's insignia; and they tell stories. We have too many brick photos to mention.  Thankfully my partner understands why I always just need one more photo of an old wall, a bricked-up window or even just an unusual pattern.

The Queen Susan Shawl is a collaborative project on the Heirloom Knitting forum on Ravelry. Several knitters had noted an old photo of a lace shawl in the Shetland Museum photo archives and together more than thirty knitters have recreated the pattern based solely upon the photo. The Queen Susan shawl pattern will be released early 2010 - and it will be free.

Meanwhile, the Shetland Museum has been very enthusiastic about the project and even has included the Ravelry group in their Call For Papers for a forthcoming knitting conference in the Shetlands.

I always get slightly misty-eyed whenever I come across stories like that. Am I going to knit the shawl? Probably not right away as the scale of the project is quite daunting, but someday I would like to try my hand at a proper heirloom-quality Shetland shawl.

Right now, though, I've realised that we are off to Denmark NEXT WEEK and David's sweater is still not done.

• Why not visit Pompeii from the comfort of your own home? The ruins of Pompeii are now available on Google Street View.
• This is absolutely lovely: Flare, a wind-sensitive electronic dress. "As the wind gently caresses the dress or if you "blow" on the dandelions themselves, a pattern of lights will twinkle across the dress."
• I have fallen head over heels with at least three of the garments in Rowan 47. A preview is available from Rowan's site (it is slow-loading, beware). My current favourite is the pink filly concoction in KidSilk Haze. I might knit in another colour, mind.
• An illuminated snowflake. At some point I will get one of my scientist friends to show me how to make these.
• A YouTube clip chronicling Franz Ferdinand's use of Soviet interwar avant-garde graphic design/art. Ah, El Lissitzky. Be still my heart.
• Starbucks will start selling  Flat Whites in the UK in the new year. I love Flat Whites and hope they'll become available in Glasgow too. Yum. (thanks, Kimfobo)
• This little clip makes me a little sad that I won't be in Blighty for Christmas (thank heavens for iPlayer)
• Finally, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. The first sleeve on David's pullover is done! Let me do a small \o/ - and as my stepfather's Christmas is done , I feel like I can cast on the delightful Yule Pig potholders in good faith that they'll be done before Christmas. I might even throw in a Christmas tree or two, thanks to these spiffing Christmas socks.

I went to school that day. My teachers cancelled all our scheduled classes and were bust talking amongst themselves. My German teacher - the great-grandson of Paul Gauguin, by the way - sat us down to watch news reports coming in from West Germany. I still recall another teacher crying in the school yard. She was part-German. Today I suspect her German family might have fled here from the East as they never visited any of their relatives until the early 1990s.

Today it is difficult to explain what life were like before the end of the Cold War. I lived in Denmark, a small country just north of both East and West Germany. Occasionally you'd hear stories about people escaping from East Germany across the southernmost Baltic Sea to southern Denmark. Occasionally you'd also hear about people travelling the opposite direction. Swedes were paranoid about Soviet submarines and Danes were paranoid about East German spies within Danish political ranks. I was just a child when it all changed but I could definitely tell something had changed. At school they stopped teaching us how to react in event of a nuclear war, for instance.

Twenty years ago today.

"This is going to alter our perceptions of Anglo-Saxon England… as radically, if not more so, as the Sutton Hoo discoveries. Absolutely the equivalent of finding a new Lindisfarne Gospels or Book of Kells." - Leslie Webster, Former Keeper, Department of Prehistory and Europe, British Museum

The UK's largest haul of Anglo-Saxon treasure has been discovered buried beneath a field in Staffordshire by an amateur metal detector enthusiast. The Staffordshire Hoard comprises of more than 1,500 individual items and most objects appear to date around the 7th century. You can read the entire press statement here.

I am incredibly excited by this hoard. One of the items which really intrigues is a strip of gold bearing a Biblical inscription. I'm excited because we don't often see examples of handwriting from this age as most writing would have been done on (easily perishable) wax tablets. The Lindisfarne Gospels date from around the same period, of course, but seeing writing employed outside a manuscript page is just really, really fantastic - particularly as you are seeing a religious inscription on an arguably secular item.

You can see beautifully detailed photos of the hoard on Flickr and while the Staffordshire Hoard website is currently struggling to cope with the number of visitors, I encourage you to seek it out.

The skein of Old Maiden Aunt DK yarn has been won by .. Birgitte.

The Ishbel shawl in Kid Silk Haze has been won by .. Meg.

The three crocheted flower brooches have been won by .. Katherine, Laila and xtiand.

The vintage button earrings will adorn Anne.

And the vintage button selection has been won by Anna.

Congratulations to all the winners - I will be in contact with you by either Rav message (if I know you on Ravelry) or by email

Secondly, the illustration and the photo come from  one of my secret vices: vintage knitting patterns. Most of my  local second-hand shops stock  patterns from the late 1970s until the late 1990s, which can be vaguely interesting on occasion, but I much prefer patterns circa 1930 to 1950. The patterns flatter the female figure, are elegant in a timeless manner, and have clever little details you don't get with much later patterns.

Last I visited Denmark I found a pattern book from around 1941 filled with knitting patterns. As it is a wartime publication, you only get a handful of photos but a healthy helping of beautiful illustrations.

Interestingly, the patterns draw inspiration from Scandinavian folklore - reindeer, stars (familiar to many from Selbuvotter), merry dancers and Faroese geometric patterns - and many of the patterns are knitted in very patriotic colours. A little girl is even styled to resemble the little princess Margrethe ( born just five days after Denmark was invaded in 1940). Wartime patriotism, ah.

Most of all I am intrigued by the way instructions are given. A pair of very intricate gloves with embroidery are described thusly: "Start knitting the cuff in the usual manner; 7 centimeters long; divide for hand and start thumb gusset; knit hand until it measures 7 centimeters; divide for fingers; finish each finger; reverse for other hand." The embroidery is described in less succinct terms, thankfully, but there is little doubt that Danish ladies of the early 1940s knew a thing or two about knitting. A little chapter is devoted how to darn socks too. I still remember my great-grandmother darning socks.

I picked up another vintage knitting pattern the other day, an old Patons pattern, which includes instructions on how to knit helmet liners for brave RAF pilots fighting in World War II. The cover features a Hawker Typhoon and one of those brave pilots looking very dashing.

Knitting is social history and I love it.

Glasgow has a very proud music hall tradition, actually, and tomorrow we are off to The Britannia Panopticon Music Hall for a steam punk craft show. The Panopticon is the oldest surviving music hall in Britain - the place where Stan Laurel of Laurel & Hardy made his stage debut, no less, and where a young Cary Grant performed while he was still Archie Leach - and it is a beautiful, almost derelict building. The Panopticon Trust has been trying to save the building for about a decade now but it is still fragile. For more information (and a bit of singing), this youtube clip from the AyeWrite literary festival features Judith Bowers, local historian and secretary of the Panopticon Trust, talking about the music hall. If you are local and you have never been, you can visit the building during the Glasgow Doors Open days in September.

Finally,  I recently subscribed to My Vintage Vogue which is a tumblr feed featuring glamorous photo shoots from the Vogue archives. And I refuse to believe there has ever been a woman quite as beautiful as Cyd Charisse..

The curious thing is that I started to really get into the socio-economics described by Heyer. Usually she is praised for her knowledge of early 19th century fashion and her distinct language usage (la!), but as I was lying in bed reading one novel after one, I started paying attention to money. Who has money? Who hasn't? What do they do with the money? How does money flow through the novels? How does money connect and separate people? Gosh, I almost feel like a Marxist literary critic..

A Civil Contract sees an impoverished aristocrat marrying a wealthy trader's daughter and through the marriage attempt to improve his estate's farming conditions. It is not a wildly romantic novel (no passionate embraces; no swooning) but a rather pragmatic look at class differences and social aspirations. While the book is far from being Great Literature, I found it convincing and interesting. I'm not sure I will read it again (unless I discover an hitherto unknown passion for early 19th C drainage problems) but it is certainly one of Heyer's beefiest novels.

The Unknown Ajax is a straightforward read compared to A Civil Contract. The hero and heroine flirt, chase ghosts, encounter smugglers and fall in love. Lather, rinse, repeat. What I loved about the book, though, was the fact that the hero is a Yorkshire woollen mill owner(!) and Heyer devotes several passages to the discussion of fleeces, crimp, sheep breeds, and the economics thereof. Just the thing to read when you're in bed and too weak to knit.

At the end of it all David pondered if I like reading Heyer because of a) the fashion discussions (I am a costume history devotee), b) the Yorkshire sheep or c) the many, many dogs with distinct personalities? I like to think it's a combination of all three plus the sparkling wit, the often ludicrous language and the knowing use of literary references (like the Shakespeare, Pope and Byron quotations in Venetia, possibly my favourite Heyer novel).

Speaking of things Romantic, I have begun knitting the Percy (Bysshe Shelley) shawl in Old Maiden Aunt 2ply alpaca/merino in the Bracken colourway. I paged through my well-thumbed copy of Shelley's Collected Poems earlier today and was amused by the doom and gloom I encountered. I had forgotten how Gothic he can be..

Ah, and the title? Enjoy Chet Baker's version of it on YouTube..