special recipe

These mittens came out of nowhere. I swear it. I think all of you got a sense, especially after my last post, that I was committed to knitting socks. 

(Many many many, unfinished socks.)

But here are these mittens. 

Let me explain. 

So, I started out knitting socks. (I guess I was cheatin' on the second pair of socks - which I was cheatin' on the first pair of socks with - cause I cast on for a third pair of what I thought were socks (in tandem with the other two pairs) a few hours after I posted my last blog. 

But something happened mid-knit. My usual method for making socks is a simple toe-up wrap-and-turn trick that I adjust depending on the yarn I'm working with and the gauge I'm looking for. Well, I got past the toe (at this point I still thought I was making socks) and was happily knitting along with this bulky yarn, when, instead of fitting it over my toes to test the fit, I started pulling it over my fingers and bobbing it around happily. 

My creative u-turn didn't stop there, the next thing I quickly decided was that these new "mittens" definitely needed to be turned "inside out" so that all the lovely bumps showed instead of the neat "v" stockinette stitches. 

Before long I was deciding on the placement of the thumb. (Thank you Elizabeth Zimmerman.) And then, after three or so more inches, switching out needles ( US 7 from a US 10.5) to finish off the cuff in a tight 2 by 2 rib. 

Not to sound too mythic, but the second mitten practically leapt from my needles fully formed, like the Greek goddess Athena when she jumped out of Zeus's nose. 

Now I know I'm taking liberties. (But I just couldn't help it.)

Anyway, these mittens make me feel like a goddess. I could hardly stop slipping them on yesterday as I prepared a Sunday dinner for my family. (Not Greek, authentic Mexican.) 

The tomatoes are the first from my gardens and (just to keep with the theme above) if this humid, wet weather keeps up, they should be spilling from our ears soon.