My great grandmother, Ingeborg, would spend the entire summer knitting and at Christmas she would send us a huge box full of hats and mittens and slippers and all sorts of wonderful Norwegian knitted things. About a dozen years ago I taught myself how to knit because I wanted to make the same wonderful kinds of things she did. This weekend I realized that not only had Miss W lost one of each of the 2 pairs of mittens I got her in Norway a few years ago, but that she had outgrown them anyway and so I had better figure out how to do this mitten thing. So yesterday, using one of her mittens as a guide, I started writing a pattern for a new pair. The decreasing is giving me fits, but I’ll figure it out. I still miss my Grandma Ingeborg. I wish I had been able to learn this from her. But it’s nice to think that she’s here with me in some small way when I pick the needles and wool.