I am so nine yards of uncool.

I know some cool people. I'm related to some of them. Unfortunately I just never seem to get the idea.

I cottoned onto knitting early. That's now very cool, not so much when I was 13. 

There was always an unfinished scarf or two hanging about in my uncool room. (Too many medieval genealogies, not enough Cure posters.)

I also, as my sisters love to remind me, spent a whole winter one year wearing a nose-warmer I knitted myself. A square of knit, with a band behind my head. I thought it was genius.

In my defence, I had the Sunday morning milking shift and it was damn cold out there. 

I apparently made them for the whole family. 

No there is no photographic evidence. 

Onto my next less than cool knitting project…

Hello, handwarmer. 

I love these. No pattern. Knitted in a rectangle, stocking stitch, and sewn up with a hole left for the thumb. Utterly basic. No funky organic fabulous yarn, no circular needle, no cool double pointed needles and no, they're not even the same length, I am THAT good.



And there's more. I could kid myself these were un-useful socks repurposed, but they didn't even have a hole. I randomly chopped the toes off and hemmed them and made more wrist warmers. Because I liked the colour. And because when it's cold and you have kinda achy hands, nothing beats a bit of a wrist warmer that used to be a nice purple sock to warm things up. 




All photos and unpublishable commentary about my marvellous hand-wear today care of Adman. 

I'm not saying you're not cool, you know, but the people I like most usually have a good solid streak of uncool. Sometimes it's hard to find under all that cool, but I know it's there. 

Uncool is best shared. Truely daggy demands witness. Please share.

Don't leave me hanging out there with my nose-warmer, I beg you.


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