Magical Mitts

As we enter the season of traditions, it's only fitting that I keep one of my personal traditions for this time of year.  Lost fingerless mitts.  I've been known to lose them in the mountains of Vermont.  Or on a fairgrounds in Maine.  It's a tradition I've inadvertently managed to keep for several years running. 

I actually thought I was going to escape the tradition this year.  This fall I had a pair of Maine Morning Mitts that would wander for a day or two and then reappear as if they had never been on leave.  As long as they returned to their proper home, I was OK with that.  We had a working arrangement.

Last week the inevitable happened.  I took the mitts with me on a long day of errands.  Too many stops to count - in and out, again and again.  I had a feeling that something was going to happen to the mitts.  When I finally got home, it was late and dark.  And I couldn't find the mitts.  I told myself that maybe they would surface in the light of day, but deep down I knew they were gone.  Instead of finding a new home in the scenic New England countryside, this pair had probably landed in a parking lot.

The next day I made the decision that the time spent trying to track down the mitts would be better spent knitting a new pair.  And while I was at it, I decided to use a different pattern.  While I love the tried-and-true Maine Morning Mitts, they have a habit of wandering.  I've lost more than one pair.  So I went in search of a new pattern and settled on this.

Lacunae Mitts by Anne Hanson.

This pattern moves right along.  In no time at all I had knit what appeared to be a skinny tube.  The tube was transformed with a quick try-on.

Magic.  If this pair doesn't wander, they will truly be magical.