As a young child in New Jersey, a snow storm was an event to be rejoiced. We had a large yard with plenty of space to make snow angels, build snow men (even snow families), and create snow forts for the inevitable snowball wars. But first, you had to gear up in snow suits or snow pants and jackets, and galoshes (the black heavy ones with the buckles that filled with snow and froze). Then, you could not go out without head and hand covering. Hats -- the head covering of choice -- were usually assigned at the start of the season. Mittens and gloves were always a challenge.
In the storage area under the window seat where the snow suits lived, there was a shoe box with random mittens and gloves. Why random? It was hard to match up a pair of mittens or gloves from the box. Mittens and children often part company in unexplained ways, and my practical mother simply paid little attention to making sure that each child had a pair of neatly matching hand coverings. Besides gloves wear out or finger poke holes in the tips of the gloves fingers. Mittens wear out at the palm or the thumb develops a hole. The challenge was not to find a matching pair of mittens or gloves, but rather making sure that your whole hand was covered. This might mean pulling a mitten over a swiss-cheese-like glove that had an intact thumb, which the mitten lacked or whatever combination worked. This lesson in creative dressing was done every time you donned your snow gear. Annually, the box of mismatched mittens and gloves was given a once over by my mother. Those deemed beyond salvageable were put in the rag bin. Sometimes parts would be saved, and the resulting amputated thumb or finger sewn onto another glove or mitten. My mother had an old fashioned darning egg and would do what she could to improve the stock in the mitten box. I have no memory of how new mittens or gloves came into the box. I'm sure they did, for I have no recollection of going out in the snow with bare hands. To this day, I cherish my gloves. I still have a heavy pair of mittens that are over 35-years old and gloves that are over 20 years old. I do not have box of mismatched mittens -- I learned to cherish my gloves and mittens at a young age.
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