My First Mittens


Readers may find it beggars belief, but these same hands knit both of these mittens. Sadly, the perfect mitten was the first ‘knitten’. It took me all of twenty-four hours under the watchful eye of my expert Nanny S. in Newfoundland. Clearly, I was able to channel the skill of my Newfoundland Foremothers on this one, not to mention ask my grandmother every step of the way what I should do next. No pattern by the way – just frequent trying-ons.

The second mitten, after returning to the Big Smoke, took over a month of dithering and was completed finally on the inaugural Friday Night Knitting Club just held here. It looks like it was made more for an Alien than human hand. What may not be clear are what look like several pairs of tiny vampire teethmarks, scattered around the second, deeply flawed mitt.

Along with living in infamy on the internet, this pair may be headed straight for a glassed-in frame on the wall where they can be preserved for posterity. For now, I am still a Newfie Princess in training.

Unlikely Injuries

Although I once assumed that cutting myself quite badly on a piece of salsa was the most unlikely injury imaginable, I was mistaken. It turns out I have been the unwitting architect of considerable misery for my friend, Jeannie, who broke a tooth eating my undeniably delicious turkey soup.
Worse, to me, is that she didn’t want to tell me. Not to mention the fact that I made the soup while staying at her weekend house, and in some respects, under her supervision. Well, I am heartily sorry, Jeannie, and I hope you got to enjoy some of the soup before it ruined your week. xo Tena