I grew up in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, the youngest of a fun, wonderful family. My mom and dad raised us 10 children in a beautiful historic home on the North End.
As you might imagine, it can get very cold in South Dakota in the winter time. Four of my seven brothers even flooded the side yard to build an ice skating rink every winter for about 12 years. I learned to skate at a very young age wearing boy’s double blade skates. Of course, I longed for girl’s white skates, but that would come later when I grew into my sisters’ skates.
I learned early on that mittens are the best way to keep one’s hands warm. Especially wool mittens. Especially RED wool mittens. Not gloves. “Why are mittens warmer than gloves?” I asked my dad. “Because the fingers are not separate, but all together to give each other warmth and hold the warm air inside the mitten.” This made a lot of sense to me!
My mom is not a “knitter” in the way most of us would think, but she can knit. She doesn’t recall exactly when she learned how to knit, but miraculously, she made a beautiful pair of red wool mittens that lasted about 18 years and were worn by more than one person. I was the last one to get to wear them. When I became a knitter, I asked my mom how she knew how to make mittens on double point needles, because it can be a little tricky to work with small double points on fingering weight yarn. She said a friend guided her in the knitting, and it was the only pair she ever made.
Those red mittens were the BEST. Bright red and made of fingering weight wool, they were warm and toasty. If they got wet from playing out in the snow, we placed them on the radiator inside the back door to dry them. If you put them on later, they were dry and sometimes even hot from the radiator. They were perfect for playing in the snow because of the wool’s natural moisture wicking tendencies, and it took a long time for them to get truly soaked.
We were lucky enough to live within walking distance of our school. I met my friends on various corners in the neighborhood to join up for the walk and it could be quite fun. I was usually the first one in our family to get home from school in the afternoon. Mom was always home when school was over. Our front door was usually locked as we used the back door almost exclusively, and the back door would be locked until we children started to arrive home in the afternoon.
The back door in those days was made of wood with a clear window in the top third of the door. It is down five steps from the main level. Our doorbell for the front door and the back door had the same ring, a simple “ding dong” two note sound. Sometimes, if you went to the back door first and didn’t see anyone there, you would go to the front door. The house is pretty big, so this could take a little while. Then, not finding anyone at the front door, you would return to the back door and walk down the steps to peer out to see if a child was waiting outside and couldn’t been seen through the window.
Now, some children might like to make their mother go from back door, to front door, to back door again for the delight in it, but I would have never done that, and besides, it was COLD!
So, how could I show my mom that I was the one standing at the back door ringing the bell?
I simply held my red-mittened hand up into the window so not only could she see that someone was there, but that I was that someone! We had our little signal together.
Unfortunately, after all of those years, one mitten was lost. I have to admit that I was probably the one who lost it. It may have dropped out of my coat pocket while walking home from school on a nicer day when I was not wearing the mittens. My mom says that I most likely was not the one who “lost” it, but that it got “mislaid” somewhere. Thanks, mom!
The second mitten from the pair hasn’t been seen in about 30 years, but I know it must be around the house, tucked in a corner of one of the coat closets!
I love making mittens. Now I live where it never gets cold enough to wear them, so I make fingerless mitts instead!
