“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..