Who’s going to kick your ass?

On the eve of sending off my first Ravelry swap package, I re-discovered one of the best postcards I’ve ever received.

This was from a yarn trade partner sometime last year. Look at this saucy little girl! I have no idea what she’s knitting, but it’s wider and shorter on both sides and long in the middle. I’m thinking it’s going to end up doll sweater. I also love that she knits English style, like I do.

But more importantly, this bitchy little knittin’ girl reminds me of something. Minus the knitting, the sentiment expressed in this card is pretty much me, about age 6 or so.

It’s about then that kids learn about the mythical “cooties” and why suddenly everyone of the opposite sex has them. I was no obviously different.

Sometime around that age, my mom, who was and is rooted in various traditional music scenes, was hosting a Norwegian Swedish Lapland (I’ve been corrected by my mom) band at our house for a week or so. Prior to their visit, I clearly had learned about said cooties, and was vehemently declaring the superiority of girls versus boys to anyone who would listen.

When the band returned home, one of the men knit both my mom and I a pair of mittens. Similar to Selbu style mittens from indestructible wool (none of that soft and fluffy merino here!). Gorgeous intricate patterns. Wonderful, thoughtful mittens. When I was older, we had a small cabinet at the bottom of the stairs by the front door of our house. Inside was enough umbrellas to outfit half of London and a couple of baskets of hats, scarves, gloves and mittens. I remember on many occasions pulling out my mom’s mittens and admiring them. (This from the girl who didn’t remember that her own mother used to knit when she was a kid. Go figure.)

And what of my mittens, you ask?

Adorable. But that’s not all. The palms hide a little secret.

And under those tiny thumbs?

Cooties, be damned!

When I was home over Christmas I took these photos. I’m considering the possibility of one day re-creating these mittens for my adult sized hands. I think if I started with a basic Selbu mitten shape, I could probably chart out the stranded pattern myself. I don’t think it would be that hard. (Famous last words.) Perhaps it’s an excuse to buy Selbuvotter: Biography of a Knitting Tradition? Do I really need an excuse to buy a knitting book? I know the actual mittens involve more than two colors, and from what I understand, Selbu is traditionally black on white (or at least one color on white), and also Norwegian, so perhaps these mittens are a different style. I guess it’s also an excuse to do some research!