Fili Top Down Convertible Mitts from Unraveled Sheep -- Day 4

Being all thumbs…

There must be a dozen ways to do a mitten thumb, with a dozen degrees of difficulty.  

Some thumbs need to have designated lefts and rights (like these), others just poke off the side so you can switch them up on either hand. Some grow from making stitches, others from picking up live stitches parked on waste yarn.  Knitters have their favorites, based on technique, comfort, style, etc.

Simply put, thumbs take thought.  And thumbs done in “left” and “right” versions simultaneously on one circular require concentration.  Deep concentration.  This is not knitting you attempt anywhere but in peaceful silence with a calming beverage at your side.

Making the crochet chains was not difficult.  Installing them in halves proved a bit more complex.  I used the old trick of different color stitch markers to ensure I knew where I was at all times.   There were points where it looked as if I was merely holding a tangle of needles, cords, yarn, and knots.  I’m certain lots of squinting and frowning was involved.  Thumbs are often one of those techniques—like entrelac—where I find myself staring at the knitting and going “Huh?  Is this right?”

But then, the desired form begins to emerge, the perfect little pocket for your opposable digit comes to life, and you can only smile.

And give, of course, a “thumbs up.”

Yellow Rose Mitts from Yarnivore - Day 5

Thumbthing to think about...

Thumbs are important.

They separate us from many other species.  They give one-gesture opinions, they text, they wrestle, they are essential PlayStation equipment, Facebook icons, and way back before Aunt Allie was old enough, an extended one could gain you a form of transportation.

So don’t just rest those digits on the spacebar, show them some respect.

Thumbs in fingerless mitts are rather a one-note samba, a place to show a little style without having to go through the complications of gloves.  I’ve done hand or wrist warmers where the thumbs just peek through a hole in the tube, but I prefer a nicely crafted thumb as in these and these.

Here, our thumbs get a delicately sensible garter trim to finish off the stockinette of the palm and gusset.  Just enough of a detail to compliment the rose motif without competing with it.

What’s extra nice is that they work right off the magic loop.  I was thinking I’d have to cast the thumb tube back on to double-points (not something I was looking forward to), but nope, I’m all set.

Now I just have to finish off the hand and its own  border, and I’m done.  The color continues to charm, and I’m finding all those teeny stitches worth the effort.

Lovikka Mittens from Three Bags Full - Day 5

S-mitten...

Oh my goodness, aren’t they lovely?  They fit my hand beautifully.  I’m really glad I opted for a flatter, kitchener tip that suits my long fingers.  I can’t stop looking at the clever channeled cuff, imagining those decorative stitches that go in there next.  If I ever loose one of these, there will be no consoling me.  

Yes, they’re snug, but I’ve decided I like them far too much to ever give them away.  I’m even contemplating a second pair out of some colorful alpaca I was given last year in Indianapolis.  I'll widen those up a little so that they're uber-warm and lofty.

These are my best thumbs yet.  Evolutionary, I'll go so far as to say.  Thumb attachments are a tricky business.  They’re like that pesky little gap when you start to turn a sock heel.  All the stitches ought to meet without gaps, but I can never seem to make it happen to my satisfaction.  I invariably end up ensuring there’s a long tail on the thumb cast-on so I can go around with a needle and sew up all those rogue holes.  I tell you, they pop up like some kind of fibrous game of Whack-A-Mole.  Only the truly ninja-knitters nail it.   Like the sock heel nexus (is that the right word for where everything comes together?), when picked up stitches line up in perfection, you know you’re looking at the work of a master.

Okay, so these are not masterful.  They are even a tad rustic, and I probably would have never picked them out in a store.  And yet, I love them just the same, because I made them.  That crafting gave me time and opportunity to appreciate their fine design, their fit, and their warmth.

So no, you can’t have them...but I’m oh-so flattered you asked.

Next up, we apply the decorative stitching!

Lovikka Mittens from Three Bags Full - Day 3

Mittens aren’t exactly linear.

  

Unlike socks, where the knitter starts at either the top or bottom and just plows on through, Mittens always need a detour for the thumb.  Gusset or set in--I’ve done both--they always mean knitters need to circle back and enclose the thumb.  

This only enforces the basic truth of sock, glove, and mitten knitting:  reaching an end doesn’t mean you’re done.  Either you’ve reached the end of the hand and you’ve got a thumb to go; or worse yet--you’ve finished the left and you’ve still got the right to go.

Which brings me to an embarrassing admission.  I’m not sure how it happened, but in following the directions for a left mitten I somehow ended up with a right.  I think it had to do with how I handled the fingertip end--I don’t like round-ended mittens so I opted to kitchener stitch it up.  I find the kitchner stitch gives the right balance between a pointed/flat mitten tip and the bunchy drawstring approach.  I suspect this foible means I need to be extra careful which stitches I kitchener (is that a verb?) next.

The fit--even if it is snug--is very nice.  A tailored, close-fitting mitten that doesn’t bunch up or make it impossible to grasp your car keys.  Well done!

Two extra bonuses today:

1) "Colin Smith" and "Gina", according to the trusty random math at Random.org, each of you has won a copy of an Erica O’Rourke novel from our February Authors Who Knit feature--please email me at allie [at] alliepleiter [dot] com with your snail mail address so we can arrange for shipment

2) Here, for your viewing pleasure, is a little non-fiber art: a shot of me at the Chicago Auto Show in a car decorated entirely by Sharpie markers.

Knit Along: Winter Wonder Mittens - Day 3

Thumthing wicked this way comes...

It’s sitting there, tucked snugly inside the current mitten, mocking me.  The thumb.

Really, after mastering all this lovely patterned color-work, I should hardly be afraid of a thumb.  It’s what separates us from lower life forms, right?  Opposable thumbs?  The physiological distinction that enables me to hold my knitting needles while other adorable yet less evolved species like my dog must content themselves with scratching?  Of course I should be able to craft a suitable housing for my beloved thumb.

Yet, I have to wonder.  Why do they leave it to last?  Is it so difficult that we’d bail on the project if we tried it mid-stream?  The same reason why I believe God gives us the easy child first so that we’re duped into thinking we can handle more and then POW...the “challenging child” comes along? (I was that second challenging child, by the way, so I’ve earned the right to say that...).

I do have a few mittens where the thumbs came out dorky.  Too fat, too long specimens, inelegant reminders that small details make a big difference.  Still, I’m astounded how this element makes me fret.  It’s probably no mistake that I marked its location with red yarn.  A cautionary color.

All else is going well, however, so I will try to persist in optimism.  I will cary on.