Bath Mitt Frenzy


It was always inevitable that ‘Finish-Up February’ would stutter to a halt with half term and ‘Crazy Cast-On March’ would begin early (although I am now on the sleeves of the big green jumper!). It is this time of year when my project bag collection, love of new needles and prolific stitch marker making suddenly pay off. It is unusual for me to focus on just one area of knitting (usually it is a scatter gun of casting on anything from blankets to egg cosies) but I am currently mad about knitting bath mitts.

Flannels annoy me. They either have to be bunched up in your palm or flap about while trying to soap up. Bath mitts are a genius item that allow a languid, relaxing bath moment to happen while also being practical and allow gentle soaping alongside much needed exfoliation.

I haven’t really made many bath related accessories before, but I have been aware that they are a big thing with our knitters across the pond. I have always been a bit reluctant to dismiss it as a knitting activity, as I appreciate that my sock knitting is regarded as mildly barmy by some knitters. However, the moment is now with me, fuelled by the fact that my favourite bath mitt has gone way beyond “well-loved” and is now firmly in the “not-even-for-dusters” camp.

The time has come, my friends, I have bought my last bath mitt!


I like to approach things mildly logically and my first step was to get stocked up with some likely yarn. Luckily KnitWit was down at LouBug HQ this weekend and so we hit the shops. I think I have pretty much cleared out my local yarn shops of all of the likely varieties of cotton (I might have gone a bit mad, but it was rather pretty and I can always use it).

Second step is well underway; I have fired up the old sketchbook and I have been bouncing ideas around to see what I can see. The real joy of bath mitts is that one side is plan garter stitch (for exfoliation) but the other is a blank canvas of possibilities. The main thing stopping me at the moment is every time I am about to start knitting the main side I come up with a better idea!

The third step is still to come, the testing phase. Me (being me) I have carefully noted everything down and I fully plan to test, wash and check all the outcomes. I have no wish to make a bath mitt that leaves my arms an interesting shade of orange (even though I do come from Essex) or one that turns my whole wash blue.

Now, I am aware that my various obsessions have led to me making multiple versions of an item (just look at my project bag, stitch marker and sock collections). I am currently ignoring the fact that if I make one from each of the yarn types then I will have more bath mitts than a reasonable person needs. Factor in the fact that each ball should make about two and all I can say is “Be warned friends and family members, this Christmas is likely to have a bit of a gift theme…..”



Elephant Mess


Thanks LouBug. Boy#1 is (im)patiently awaiting a starter pattern from his favourite auntie! Get posting!

From the depths of my brain I can recall that the average gestation for a baby elephant is two years. Yes, TWO YEARS! For anyone who has ever been pregnant, this thought is so awful you are almost grateful that all we have to worry about is sorting the logistics of a narrow exit and an unusually large head. If a giant elephant can create a mini-me from a single cell in just 24 months, then surely it isn’t beyond my capabilities to knit a fake one in just a few evenings? I fear it might be…This gestation has no due-date. I followed the rules of “little and often” and accumulated a whole nine rows from seemingly nowhere. Then, GAAH! Suddenly read the pattern again (properly this time), and realised the crucial information of “purl every other row” had not been read/assimilated/executed accordingly (see photo above…maybe the more proficient amongst you would have noticed the problem sooner than the nine rows it took me).

Annoyingly this isn’t the first time this has happened. One of my knitted mutant grapes (that could also double as a plum), took on a slight ‘acorn’ look to it. This too was later diagnosed with the common disorder hypo-purl-itis. Must either start to concentrate more, or actually read the pattern properly. Knitting crime committed – punishment: Unpicking the whole thing and starting again. Ughghg.

For any readers on Ravelry who want to see photographic evidence of this grape shambles, click on grape crime to see the full horror.

Elephant pattern by Sarah Keen Knitted Wild Animals


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