Dennis With His New Snow Shoveling Mittens
In the cold of winter the thoughts do travel beyond making warm quilts. I would have to thank my children’s Dad, Orlin Schafer, for teaching me how to crochet during the time that we lived in Riesel, Texas – way back when. By the time we moved back to Minnesota I had the basics down to a science. Spending time with Orlin’s mother, Esther Schafer, gave me the next round of the more difficult stitches and she also taught me how to be creative to alter a pattern for a specific size.
When I decided these last weeks to bring out the crochet hooks I knew I wanted to stay with small projects. The arthritis had not done the finger dance necessary to create good tension with the left hand of yarn entwined as it feeds the yarn to the right hand for the stitches in a long time. The first night I could feel the challenge that the hands are done. Dennis was already anticipating putting liners in the crocheted mittens for wonderful insulation when working out in the cold.
Being able to create something from nothing is truly a life 
long gift that was given and has been a joy. I couldn’t even begin to count the number of projects that the skill has created. Orlin’s dad Arthur would sit in his chair and comment how women could spend so much time making holes with string. I don’t think he minded one bit the slippers that he was wearing on his feet when he would comment. Priceless.
With Dennis in his mittens and me in my cap we settled in for a long winter’s snow and cold.
