Me: Who's there?
Me: Troll Who
Troll: Does it matter?
Me: Not really - just go away. My mittens look freakish enough as it is.
Notice how the top of the mitt isn't as ...umm...poofy as the beginning. I started using my roving twice in a twist. That's right. Cheating girl, right here. Pull off one tuft, knit it once and then, three stitches later, knit it again. Then I called Mum for mitten support - she's a seasoned thrummer - and she said, she double dips as well with the Fleece Artist roving. Thank God! See? It must be in my blood.
Unfortunately, algae from the frog pond is starting to infect my blood as well. Now that I'm past the thumb and all-over that thrumming thing, I really don't like the ribless cuff. It's going to be all puffy and some poor soul will have to try and stuff it in the sleeve of a winter jacket. I might end up calling this a trial mitten and run screaming for the safety of K1P1.
The upshot is, I could probably knit and reknit these mittens for a year without complaining. This is by far the nicest wool I've ever knit with - I mean like really nice, not just soft or with pretty colours. But with all of those things and something else I can't describe. I have to repeat the recipients name over and over in my head because with every stitch, I convince myself more that she doesn't need mittens or wouldn't appreciate the work or probably wouldn't like the colours.
Or maybe I just need more sleep....