Well. For those of you just stopping in, this is my first northern winter in fifteen years. (Five years in South Carolina, ten years in Hawaii before that.) While I grew up in this climate, it's been a while. And since that last northern winter, fifteen years ago, I broke most of the bones in my hand. Plus of course doing all kinds of other orthopedically stupid things that are coming back to haunt me.
Did I mention cold makes my knuckles feel like they were hit by a hammer? Doesn't do much for my knees or shoulders, either.
I'd been meaning to knit myself a pair of thrummed mittens. (My father-in-law checked in the night before last. He was loving on the mittens. He'd shoveled the entire drive AND HIS HANDS WERE STILL WARM.) The stealth knitting I've been doing around here was meant to be a couple pairs of mittens, for me and the Goober. But the mittens were giving me fits, and we got to the outlet mall today, and I was standing in the Columbia store, in front of a wall of mittens and gloves, and I fear I had the worst thought a knitter could have:
To hell with the knitting.
I love wool. I really, REALLY love wool, with an unholy passion. Really. Unholy. But no matter how freaking awesome wool is, space-age man-made fibers can be better. (CAN. It depends. I'm not totally dissing the wool.) I broke. I was lured in by the temptation of warm hands.
These are $60 gloves. No, I did not pay that for them. It was an outlet mall. I paid a whole lot less for them. I don't think I'd have paid it, no matter how good the deal was, if my knuckles weren't killing me. But they were. And they came in purple. With floral embroidery.
Look, there's a little squeegee on the back of my left thumb, to scrape snow off my ski goggles. (No, I don't ski. Sheesh. Work with me, here.)
Innit cute? Of course, between outer shell, lining, and space-age fiber in between, my dexterity in these babies brings back memories of when my hand was broken, swollen to twice its size, pinned and sewn together, and strapped into a splint. Did I mention the warmth?
We got the Goober some fleece and something (GoreTex? Thinsulate? Something.) mittens. Their kids mittens are VERY cool. They have a universal thumb. The slit for the thumb opening runs horizontally across the palm of the hand, and the thumb sticks straight out from the middle, with lots of give on either side:
No more wrestling around, trying to get her thumbs into little tiny thumb holes. I freaking LOVE good design.
After that, I headed over to Target (with warm but not dexterous hands) to buy some socks. My feet are cold. I was thinking wool. Because I love wool. But yet again, my brain got away from me. Standing there, in front of the wall o socks, I spotted something BETTER THAN WOOL. (Again. Twice in one day. I'm so ashamed.) Angora socks. Really, wool/angora blend socks. I haven't totally abandoned the wool. Generally I don't like angora because it's fuzzy as hell, but since my feet are numb most of the time due to one of my medications, I figured it wouldn't matter. My mother used to tell me about wearing angora sweaters in the fifties and nearly dying of heat stroke. So I got three pairs.
(Terby, please note. Not everything I own is blinding colors. See that gray pair in the middle? Those are for when I want to be dignified. No idea when in hell that'll be, but if I need to, I'm ready.)
I'm soooooo warm. Gonna go put on the Starry Night flannel jammies my sister-in-law gave me for Christmas, put a heating pad on the back of my neck (it's been keeping the migraines away), and gloat.