Mittens

Early on Sunday afternoon a 24 hour rain began to fall. The temperature hovered at 33 degrees creating an ice covered landscape. By Tuesday the sun shone on a dazzling 27 degree day. Today promises to be warmer. I've been knitting mittens. I drank hot tea and imagined joining hands with generations of knitters, including my grandmothers.  

Our six year old grandson needs a bigger hat/mitten set. Although the three year old could wear the hand-me-downs, I won't send a set for one without including the other so I am in for two hat mitten sets. While I wait for the charcoal gray yarn for the six year old's set to arrive, I cast on mittens for the three year old. I like the recipe from Ann Budd's, "The Knitter's Book of Handy Patterns as it is a both/and mitten; no left or right. Kids can pull them on either hand as they run out the door. The first pair looked too big for M. so I cast on another, the next size down. Someone somewhere will need warm hands.  

Last week I knit these Align Mitts for my niece. She had admired the mitts I made from the same pink yarn for her Mom. This is another both/and pattern. Left/right mittens have their place, especially when they are designed with cables or stranded color work and I enjoy knitting those too. Left and right, right or left, mittens keep and extend warm hands. Either way the best mittens are those knit by hand.

The ice is melting. I can hear it falling from the birch outside my window. I am going to find my old warm mittens and go for a walk. While walking, I try to imagine stories and conversations of both/and instead of either/or. When I come home I'll have a cup of tea and finish the fourth mitten.

A New Year

Light hoarfrost covers the trees and bushes this morning. I made coffee while watching juncos huddle in the linden. Later as I filled the feeder, the slightest powder of snow sifted down on my hands. After autumn, winter is my favorite season. The landscape, inside and out, is less cluttered. The garden harvest, dried herbs, and Christmas decorations are mostly put away. The open spaces are more accessible for dusting but I'd rather write about knitting projects and the season.

Before Christmas, I knit my two youngest grandsons mittens. Since reindeer were a big topic of conversation, I chose the Antler Mittens pattern. One evening I showed the five year old his mitten in progress. He asked how he could ever wear mittens with pointy antlers. My daughter explained the wooden antlers were the tools I used to make the mittens. He is a guy who likes tools so calling a knitting needle a tool made sense to him. I explained the cable as a design in one of his school art projects and assured him the finished mittens wouldn't have real pointy wooden antlers. Together we convinced him he could safely wear the mittens.

On New Year's Day I chose a skein of a soft gray wool/alpaca blend and some leftovers and decided to have another try at the Align Mitts. I like the clean look of half stockinette with half ribbing. The first time I knit these mitts, I ripped them out to get a left and right mitt. The second time, still not understanding my mistake, I left them as a mismatched pair. In the light of day, I sat down to think about the pattern. Since this pattern is free, I'm not giving away "for purchase information" when I explain my lightbulb moment. I am a loose knitter with smaller hands so I often decrease the number of stitches to get a mitt that fits snugly. The instructions call for casting on 50 stitches that are divided between 25 ribbed and 25 stockinette stitches. The thumb gusset begins in the center (stitch 13) of the ribbed section. When I knit the mitts with 48 stitches, the division was 24 stitches. The way the pattern is written, the thumb gusset can't be centered on an even number of stitches. The total number of stitches needs to be divisible by two AND AT THE SAME time be an odd number. Eureka, I think I figured it out. Maybe it is time to dust off a few more Math skills. I am a seasoned knitter so understanding the construction of patterns is a reasonable goal.

Since then, I decided to make "understanding" my word/theme for this year. Truly understanding, whether it is the perspective of a child, a knitting pattern, someone's point of view, or the winter season is a good start to the New Year.

Speaking of understanding, we are still waiting for our new grandchild. Babies have a sense of timing all of their own. After posting, I will tidy up my desk. Then I'll pack up the last odds and ends of Christmas: cards, wrapping paper, and mugs and whatever else turns up. I may dust and I may not. First I plan to go for a walk under the falling frost and enjoy the grays and whites of winter.

Happy New Year!

Ginger Mitts

Last week I knit these mitts. About ten o'clock one evening, I finished the second thumb and wove in the ends on both mitts. Then I tried them on to admire them, the way we knitters do, only to discover the thumbs are differently placed in the ribbing. Rather disgusted with myself, I set them aside and went to bed with a book.

I knit these while listening to a Charles Todd mystery, A Pale Horse. I particularly liked the end of this story. Charles Todd is a mother/son team who have published two mystery series set in England and France during and shortly after World War One. One series features Bess Crawford, an English woman serving as a nurse during the war. The other longer series, that the above book is part of, is set in England after the war. The protagonist is Ian Rutledge, a Scotland yard detective, who served as an English officer in France. Rutledge suffered shell-shock during the war and carries his demons with him. I find both series well written with the right amount of plot, history, and descriptions of place and characters. While they are about murder, they do not contain gory details that keep me up at night. Occasionally I wish Rutledge could find a little peace but Todd's portrayal of shell shock is more authentic. I enjoy the mysteries so I was probably imagining the English countryside or listening for red herrings while drinking tea and knitting merrily away on the second mitt.  

Many others have knit the Align Mitts successfully so the mistake is mine and not the fault of the designer. I did think to knit an inch cuff of ribbing to keep the stockinette portion from rolling up along the bottom edges. The mitts don't take much yarn and would be easy to size up or down. I like their tailored non-fussy look. I will probably knit them again as the pattern is well suited to leftover fingering weight yarn. Other yarns could be substituted and the stitch count changed. The designer made a few suggestions on how to do this on the pattern page. I used Entice Yarn by Hazel Knits that was leftover from the Shallows cowl. The yarn is lovely around the neck or to wear on the hands.

My first inclination was to rip out the second mitt and reknit it so the two would be a perfect match. Indeed, I think of ripping and re-knitting as getting more value and enjoyment from the yarn. I have ripped out sweaters because I knew they weren't going to fit. I have ripped out lace patterns in order to maintain the melodic rhythm of the stitch patterns. I stand by the idea that if, I don't like a mistake now, I won't like it ten stitches, ten rows, or ten inches of knitting later. I have fixed and fudged all kinds of mistakes.  

Earlier this week I happened to have a conversation about perfection with an acquaintance. I didn't know the woman well enough to offer advice so I listened as she stated her home would never measure up to the newly built new homes of her friends. I countered with my thoughts on accepting less than perfection when celebrating the winter holidays. When I got home, I looked up the dictionary definition for perfect. My old hard copy of the American Heritage Dictionary listed eight definitions for the word used an adjective, two for usage as a noun, and several more about verb usage and verb tense. Only once did the dictionary define "perfect" as being without defect or blemish. Other notations in the list included the following: lacking nothing essential to the whole, completely suited for a purpose, excellent and delightful. More over, some of the word origin comes from a Latin participle meaning "to finish" or "to do."

I decided not to redo these mitts. They are very warm and comfortable. They fit well and are sturdily made. I wove the ends in with care and the cuff won't roll up out of my sleeve. And for heaven's sake, they are made of merino, cashmere, and nylon yarn that is perfectly delightful next to the skin.

Perhaps you will join me as I raise my knitting needles high and salute whole and delightful perfection!