Blue and White Mittens : Andie Kinstle

Blue and White Mittens Andie Kinstle

My cousins’ nana knit me a pair of blue and white mittens.

I don't know if they are wool or yarn, but they are soft on my fingers and fit my hands just right.

She used to work at my town’s library, and when my elementary school class would cross the street and stomp our small feet all the way over to check out books none of us would ever finish, I made sure to tell everyone we were related.

I don’t know when my cousins’ nana learned to knit, or who taught her.

I don't know if it’s been one of her hobbies for a while or if it’s something new.

I remember my great grandmother telling me once that she started to crochet doilies because it kept her fingers going.

She used to work as a telephone operator, and she loves romance novels and cardinals.

I can't remember the last time I saw her.

My grandfather likes to bird watch, and he keeps a pair of binoculars in the closet next to the house’s front door.

I imagine him sitting outside in the summer, waiting to see if any hummingbirds will fly to the red feeders.

I used to hop along a stone path that connects the front porch to the driveway with no shoes on, and it was a game to try to avoid the grass.

My mother and grandfather and grandmother would sit in the wicker chairs, and I didn’t care about anything.

Now that grandmother is gone, and the hummingbird feeders might be too, but maybe not.

I wonder what my grandfather thinks when he sees cardinals.

I used to knit when I was younger, but I’ve long forgotten how, and I don’t think I can learn again.

I wanted to knit myself a matching hat and scarf, but I gave up before they were ready for wear.

I used to bring my yarn ball and needles with me to school in fourth grade, determined to finish.

My other grandmother ended up finishing them for me and I think I still have them both somewhere, or maybe I got rid of them during one of those many times I’ve taken to my room with big trash bags.

I wonder if my grandmother remembers that hat.

She used to sew clothes for my sister’s and my American Girl Dolls.

She made one coat that was black and white checkered and had a cork as a button.

I remember her sewing doll clothes at my house one time when she visited.

I watched her stick a needle between her tongue and teeth, as if for safekeeping.

I told her that wasn’t safe, and I don’t remember what she said.

My sister got the checkered coat, but I put it on my dolls anyways.

For Christmas, I gave my sister a gray hat with a pom-pom on the very top.

She said she liked it and I was glad.

Maybe if I had asked my cousins’ nana or my great grandmother or my other grandmother to teach me to knit or crochet or sew when I was younger, I would have made the Christmas-gift hat.

But I bought it, and a stranger taught me how to knit, and my cousins’ nana made me blue and white mittens.