When Cindy Pandke, 56, took a knitting class with her son in January 2015 – his Christmas gift to her – she hadn’t picked up needles or yarn in more than 40 years. But she immediately remembered what she’d learned from her mother while growing up in St. Thomas, Ont.; after casting a few stitches, she was hooked. Pandke brought her supplies to St. Joseph’s Health Care in London, Ont., where she’s employed as an e-learning specialist, and set up a tutorial for her co-workers, Noelle Tangredi, 51, and Kim Reid, 59.

The three women wanted their new lunchtime activity to be more than a hobby – they hoped it could benefit others. At first, they tackled small projects: dishcloths for a women’s shelter and catnip pouches for an animal rescue. A couple of months after the tutorials began, Tangredi broached the idea of a hand muff – tube shaped and made with yarns of different textures – designed to provide tactile stimulation. The colleagues soon realized the fuzzy products might be able to help people in their very own workplace: the e-learning department shares a building with the Mount Hope Centre for Long Term Care, where many patients have Alzheimer’s.

Tangredi understands well how a restless mind can lead to physical agitation – especially fretful hands. Her mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in 1993 and passed away a decade later; at age 79. A favourite self-soothing mechanism had been to pet a stuffed cat.

One of the first recipients of a hand muff was a woman prone to outbursts of yelling and pulling at her clothes. The handicraft “immediately calmed her,” Tangredi says. It has since become part of the patient’s regular treatment, written into her file so caregivers keep it close by.

Since the initial prototype was completed in April 2015, the group has donated 525 of its “therapeutic hand muffs for dementia” to local organizations that work with patients suffering from the condition. The founders operate out of their lunchroom, which is also where they store tackle boxes full of beads and buttons. Muffs are crafted on-site during breaks or arrive nearly completed by other volunteers – mostly family and friends.

Next, it’s time for decorations, or what the women call “doodads”: shiny trinkets, beads on strings, buttons and tassels – objects to occupy fidgety hands that tend to grab at things incessantly. Finally, the knitwear goes through quality control to ensure the embellishments are firmly secured before the muff is sewn up.

In later stages of dementia, patients become increasingly confused, which can cause them to lash out: “When someone is verbally or physically upset, this can be a result of anxiety, mood disorders or fear,” says Dr. Sheri-Lynn Kane. A geriatrician at St. Joseph’s, Kane donated buttons to the cause after seeing the muffs’ therapeutic benefits. “I think of them like worry beads, or any kind of repetitive activity that can be soothing,” she says.

Also lending a hand are local knitting circles, including one at the Little Red Mitten in St. Thomas, where Pandke and her son took their class, and a group in a nearby retirement home. Custom orders now come in for children with autism – muffs are calming and help them self-regulate their moods.

The Christmas after Pandke took that knitting class, her father-in-law suffered a stroke at the age of 101. Seeing him grab at his clothes and the bedding in his hospital room, Pandke knew what to do. “He still uses his muff at night when he’s agitated,” she says.

15 Minutes with Mike Myers

Reader’s Digest: You were born and raised in this country but have lived elsewhere for most of your adult life. In your book, you say there is “nothing more Canadian than a Canadian who lives outside of Canada.” Discuss.

Mike Myers: When I go home, to Toronto, my jaw untightens. Civility doesn’t make headlines, but it’s very sexy to me. People ask me, “What’s the flavour of Canada?” Like, Mexico is salsa, America is hot dogs and hamburgers. I say Canada is celery salt – it’s one of my favourites and it’s very subtle, but that doesn’t mean it’s not indelible.

Celery salt also makes a great rim for a Caesar, which is another Canadian delight.

A Caesar is the greatest drink and the toughest sell. “Clam juice and tomato juice – what?!” Just try it, I always say.

Your new tome, Canada, is a mix of history, psychology, photography, comedy and memoir. How do you imagine people reading it?

At the risk of making it sound like a dessert topping and a floor wax – it’s at once a coffee-table book, a beach book, a stocking stuffer and a souvenir.

Most people know you as a comedian and actor. Why write a book?

It’s 53 years in the making, and it’s a chronology of the relationship between me and Canada. Del Close, the famous improve teacher, said, “Don’t invent, remember.” That’s what this is: There’s no delete option in my head: I tend to retain things.

At one point you say Canadians have taken apology to a burlesque level. Is that something you’re guilty of?

Comedian Kevin Nealon always used to do an impression of me that began with “In Canada” and ended with “sorry.” The trope I heard about Canadians my whole life is that we don’t have an identity, and I couldn’t disagree more. We know ourselves very, very well. We’ve chosen to do so many big things: universal health care, providing peacekeeping forces to the United Nations, inventing Pablum. These things are fantastic, but they’re not flashy. With the splashier things, I think we do doubt ourselves. And when you combine that with the British sense of manners, you have an apologetic state.

You claim to have learned about the United States from The Brady Bunch and Bewitched. How do you think Americans learn about Canadians?

I don’t think they have. There’s a line in the book where a friend says, “Wow, you’ve got a lot of American friends and a lot of opinions about us.” I say, “Well, what do you guys think of us?” And he says, “We don’t.”

You’ve been honoured many times by your home country – a star on our Walk of Fame, a street named after you, a stamp. Does any one accolade stick out?

I was included in a CBC poll called The Greatest Canadian. Just to be part of that was pretty mind-blowing.

I’d like to end by taking exception to your statement that poutine is not a Canadian dish but “just a topping.” I beg to differ.

I was being facetious! What I was trying to say was that a single dish does not constitute a cuisine, and to build a case, I relegated poutine to a topping. I would like to state, for the record, that I am pro-poutine.

Canada is available now.

Veteran Profile: Perley Cameron, NNSH

Perley was born in Sydney, N.S., and joined the Cape Breton Highlanders in 1939, but transferred to the North Nova Scotia Highlanders to be sent overseas sooner. He landed on D-Day as a “carrier” driver and experienced many battles against the infamous 12th SS Hitlerjugend. Perley finished the war with the NNSH and was one of the few “originals” to return home of those who left Canada in 1941. He passed away in April 2001.

“The thing that bothered me most was seeing some of my friends being killed.”

To view an interview with Perley Cameron, researched and produced by Veterans Voices of Canada, click here.

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