Instead of one serving plate of whatever I baked, and a large common pot of tea, we've adapted.
Now it's two stations, each with its own baked goods serving plate, sugar, him not me, spoons and milk pitcher. And individual teapots. One at each end of the coffee table.
Here's the technical issue: the handle doesn't work for Handsome Son's hand. It slips. He needs a napkin to keep his knuckles from hitting the pot, ow. He doesn't have a lifetime of experience in pouring tea. As the hostess I've always done it.
So now we need some insulation, and I think a tea cosy is called for. Not to keep the pot warm, it doesn't get the chance to get cool, but to save the heir's mitt.
I have great insulation here, handspun llama yarn from Bolivia, from a woman's co-op. Paid fair trade for it, too, still not wildly expensive. And with the added interest of bits of Bolivian grass and seeds here and there.
If this keeps llamas warm at high elevations, it should work at our teatable.
So I measured the recipient, too bad to cover up this design, but oh well. Two needles, 32 stitches, double rib. I'll work without a pattern, just leave slits to accommodate the spout and handle. Not unlike fingerless gloves I've made in the past.
I hadn't planned on this little project, but last evening the piteous cries of the wounded offspring, well, more like an indrawn breath and snort, pressed the issue.
So here we are.
