Whenever I visit a thrift shop I make it my mission to rescue orphaned mittens. I almost always find at least one pair. That they end up as cast offs in a thrift shop, marked 99 cents, is enough to break your heart. I value the time and effort some unknown knitter has taken to make them, not to mention their undeniable charm. They are all different, some from more skilled hands than others, but the variations on a similar theme just make them all the more dear. And so I buy them and give them a good home. By the way, there is nothing warmer than a pair of knit mittens, especially when you wear one pair inside the other. Trust me, I know, and I’ve lived through enough Canadian winters to prove it.
All this talk of orphaned mittens reminds me of an art installation I saw several years ago, called The Lost Mitten Project. The artist, Karina Bergmans, began collecting lost mittens during the winter of 2002/2003. Lost mittens are a common sight in my snow-bound city. Just the other day I encountered two different lost mittens on my way to the bus stop, a few blocks from each other. I usually scoop them up and place them at eye-level (on a newspaper box, or ledge) in the hope that the owner will spot them on their return trip.
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