Lookin' for Sock Love

I learned to make socks back in 1997 from my MIL (God bless her; she can whip off a pair of socks or slippers in a jiff). I made a couple of Christmas "socks" for my sisters in worsted weight. Then I tried a sock with fine yarn (the stuff you'd call string). I found the whole process rather tedious: teeny tiny stitches on itty bitty needles? Not for me. Eventually I stopped knitting altogether (I don't know what I was thinking, but my interests lay elsewhere).

Since delving back into knitting, I've made 3 pairs of socks and I've got a 4th one on the go. Go figure? While I understand basic sock construction, I'm still "feeling" my way 'round the different varieties and permutations: cuff-down vs toe-up, heel flaps vs short-row heels . . . I can't even name all of them. Yet despite my relative lack of experience and knowledge, I'm starting to "get" it. Sock love. Wait, let me explain.

First off, there's magic in socks (no, I'm not drinkin' too much wine; and no, work on my taxes did not induce temporary brain fatigue--although I can't guarantee I haven't lost a few gray cells). For me, the mystery of life lies in the turning of the heel (well, maybe not the mystery of life). You're knitting essentially a straight tube and then the whole thing curves to fit perfectly round the heel. It's pure magic!

Then there's these two appreciative recipients who eagerly await their new socks. Their grandmother introduced my boys to "homemade" socks (that's what my boys call them, as if they were homemade cookies and or homemade muffins--something to make ya feel cozy). And they love them!

Finally there's the portability factor: socks are small. I can take them anywhere. And that, my dear friend, is the secret to finishing socks: keep them handy in your purse or knapsack. Your wait or commute will zip along and you will have a sock to show for it in the end. :)