I remember that every year in college just after winter we had a collection for mismatched gloves or mittens. We got students, the city, everybody to donate any singles that they had, and we had a great old time sorting through them to make matched pairs to give to the local shelters for next winter.
Only problem was that very late that night, we tended to get a bit punchy and kept trying to relax the standards for what made up a match. As in, “Hey, does contrast count?” or “This one has a rabbit and that one has a dog, can we call them a set?”
Then there was the one year when we found what were obviously a hand-knitter’s discards. One with three fingers and a thumb, one with two thumbs, one that was perhaps designed for a moose with neither thumbs nor fingers.
Those went to the humane society to turn into pet toys, as did any others that weren’t in great shape or had no earthly risk of ever finding a match.
I remember that every year in college just after winter we had a collection for mismatched gloves or mittens. We got students, the city, everybody to donate any singles that they had, and we had a great old time sorting through them to make matched pairs to give to the local shelters for next winter.
Only problem was that very late that night, we tended to get a bit punchy and kept trying to relax the standards for what made up a match. As in, “Hey, does contrast count?” or “This one has a rabbit and that one has a dog, can we call them a set?”
Then there was the one year when we found what were obviously a hand-knitter’s discards. One with three fingers and a thumb, one with two thumbs, one that was perhaps designed for a moose with neither thumbs nor fingers.
Those went to the humane society to turn into pet toys, as did any others that weren’t in great shape or had no earthly risk of ever finding a match.