So here’s the thing. I am pretty good about making things for people when they ask me to, assuming that they do not fall into any of the following categories.
b) Practically strangers.
c) Individuals who have been inappropriate about my knitting in the past. (This determination is completely up to me, and changes like the wind, but if you’ve ever suggested to me that the things I make are the same as the things in the store, and enquired that I might be able to save my self a ton of time, then don’t be looking under the tree this Christmas for a little woolly love. You don’t get it.)
d) Are known knit offenders. (Crimes include felting more than one thing, losing too many hats, or never ever wearing anything I’ve given you. Also suspicious, saying everything is itchy when it’s not – even cotton or silk, because I know you’re lying and you should just tell me you don’t like knitted stuff.
e) Are asking for something too horrible to contemplate knitting, even if you really, really love someone. (Yes Erin. I’m talking about you. Buy a hammock.)
Other than that, if a family member (who does not fall into categories c, d or e above) asks me for something, I’m probably going to make it. I’m especially vulnerable to requests from children, and from my daughters. When the girls ask me for knitted stuff, I feel like they’re apologizing for all the times they thought I was a dorky knitter and asked me not to knit where their friends could see me. This is a long way to saying that Sam asked me to make her some handwarmers. She’s taken to carrying a jar of tea or coffee to school, and the jar gets too hot. (I know, I know. USE A MUG. She can’t though, because she’s really cool, and being really cool limits your choices a lot.) I got the cutest little kit from Knit East, and Sam saw it and said they would be perfect and so voila.
The Pattern is for Sakura Fingerless Gloves (designed by Kate Atherley and free at that first link) and it came with a skein of Sakura Cotton in 52801. (I love it when the colour names are sexy.)
Maybe because the girl in the picture is holding a mug – who knows but Sam saw this as solving her jar problem straightaway.
Totally cool… right? You would be wrong. Not that Sam want’s to be ungrateful (she definitely doesn’t want that) and she did stress that she’s going to wear them anyway, but didn’t I agree, she asked… that they were super not-matchy?
Longtime readers of the blog will recall that Sam has issues around matching. She thinks you can spot knitters by their mismatched stuff – and she’s largely right. (I’ve been guilty of that. My favourite hat, my nicest mittens, the scarf I just finished… they might match colour-wise, sort of, but they definitely aren’t a "set.") and Sam loves things that match, Enough that I wondered if she would have a problem with these mitts. I told myself that she’s a smart girl, and had seen the pattern picture (where the mittens are clearly mismatched) and reminded her of this when sure enough, she was not thrilled that they didn’t match.
"They’re really, really different." She exclaimed.
"You knew they would be!" I said, not at all shrilly. "The cute girl on the pattern has mismatched mitts and she’s still cute."
"Mum. Obviously she has the hat to pull them together."
Sam feels, I can tell, that I should do one of two things. Knit her the hat, or knit her another mitt. One that matches better. I definitely haven’t got enough yarn to knit the former, but I absolutely have enough for the latter, and truthfully, I think the hat thing wouldn’t cut it for Sam. She’s going to keep looking at those mitts, and it’s going to keep bugging her. I’m thinking I’ll just knit her another mitt, but do I want to set a precedent like this? Is this un-appreciating knits? Am I spoiling her if I knit a third one? Do they match well enough and she saw how it was going to be and there of lots of other girls in the world who are going to sleep tonight with no fingerless mitts at all, never mind matching ones and…
I think maybe they really don’t match enough.
(And no. The yarn is not here yet.)