The boy came home from a friend’s house wearing, on his hands, a pair of old socks that had the toe cut off and a hole made for the thumb, a sort of poor man’s mitts.
Now, what kind of a knitter mom would I be if I let him walk around with those?
We’re deep into Harry Potter these days, reading it aloud at bedtime. We’re on the 4th book which is getting a bit dark and scary. He still loves it and, truth be told, I’m probably enjoying the reread more than he is. Maybe when we get to the end with the dripping blood and all that I’ll have to censor it a bit… Anyway, I asked what house he would be in and he promptly replied: “Gryffindor! Gryffindor!” “You sure?” I asked. “Not Ravenclaw?” Mostly thinking of the perfect Ravenclaw colors I still have left over from the scarves from 2 years ago. (At least he didn’t say Hufflepuff. I’d be a bit worried. Ugh. What reasonable person would want to be in Hufflepuff? But I digress.)
I managed to find a reasonable combination of colors and whipped up some new mitts for him.
They’re not the most perfect, technique-wise but I’m pretty sure he’ll lose them in a few days so I wasn’t too keen on spending a lot of time. Besides, they worked just fine to keep his hands toasty while eating froyo.
Of course, now someone else wants a pair–in purple, naturally.
In other knitting news, I’m finally getting some work done on this sweater (the one promised over a year ago):
and most excitingly (for me, anyway. I’m sure you don’t care nearly as much) I finally, finally have a nice place to store all my pretty yarn! What was once a dreary little corner with a crappy plastic drawer unit overflowing with art supplies is now a clean, well lighted place to store yarn (and all the art supplies and puzzles and games).
Now if I can only somehow convince Eric that we need to get rid of the piano and convert the entire room into a craft space for me…