muttons... muffins... mittens?

My teeth were chattering, my body shaking, my legs almost numb in nylon pants... and the poor girl didn't even have any gloves on her hands. There we were, standing on top of Mt. LeConte in what could have easily been a Christmas card painting, and her hands were bare. I rifled through my backpack for what I thought had been an extra pair of gloves I'd thrown in (just in case someone else needed them... I really AM my mother!), only to find a pair of black ankle socks. "Aren't your hands cold? I have these socks you could put on your hands like muttons." She looked a little confused, and then I realized my mistake. "I mean muffins. Wait, no... What are they called?!" MITTENS! Yeah, that's the word. My poor brain was just frozen, that's all.

Ever since that day, I've been a little obsessed with the idea of mittens. Ever since that day, every time I try to say "mittens," I call them muttons and muffins first. It's true, sometimes my brain and my mouth don't coordinate their efforts.

So of course I was excited to find a great idea on pinterest (my name is Rebecca and I have a problem) to make mittens out of an old sweater. I promptly drove down the street to Goodwill (which is dangerously close to home) and found a hideous but nicely colored sweater for $1. The first attempt wasn't so great -- the wrist holes were almost too small to get my hands through, and one of the thumb holes was so tight my thumb went numb. If they'd at least fit, I could've put up with the fact that I sewed one of them wrong side-out (I always do that! grr). I almost gave up, but I couldn't end the day in defeat. I now have a somewhat loose but cheap and one-of-a-kind pair of mittens for the coming freeze. Success!

Take 1: not so great

Take 2: kind of ok!