The Candle in the Window

I put a lit candle on my window-sill tonight. It is a Danish tradition to do on the evening of May 4 in memory of May 4, 1945, the evening the Nazi Occupation of Denmark ended. I lit the candle in memory of family members, now long gone, who fought with the Danish Resistance. I also lit the candle thinking about democracy and the forth-coming British general election. I cannot vote in this election, and I have a sinking feeling about its likely outcome, but I appreciate living in a democracy (albeit one with a wacky voting system). 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.

Catching Up With Myself

Sitting comfortably? Good.

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.

Losing Its Reputation

"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.

Swings & Roundabouts

Maybe it is the festive season, maybe it is the constant news coverage of the climate conference, but I am homesick. I have lived in Glasgow well over three years now and I have settled reasonably well, but even so this is Not Quite Home. 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.

Counting the Days

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?

The Connection Is Made

Sitting here in dark, rainy Scotland does not feel so bad, when I look at the Danish Budget for 2010. Among all the talk about a new super-hospital and whatnot, the government is now going to offer non-Western immigrants up to £12,000 for giving up their legal residency and returning "home". The Budget also includes £500,000 to mark overseas Danish cultural heritage - particularly the former slave colonies of Ghana and The West Indies. At the risk of sounding cryptic: Denmark is now what the Daily Mail wants Britain to become. 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.