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Musing on Socks

January 24, 2010

Does a Sunday count for more than one blog post in a week?

I’ve been working on some socks and it got me musing…(yes, I muse about various things a lot of the time.)

Socks are an odd thing.

For most of my childhood I resisted wearing them in any shape or form. In the summers I would run a little wild,barefoot, playing in the garden and the woodland and allotments behind my parents house, climbing trees and when we were on holiday paddling in the sea, feeling the different types of sand between my toes; the hard packed sand of the sand banks, the muddy sand of the estuary banks and the powdery sand of the beaches. The feeling of warm paving slabs betneath my feet and thetickling of grass, the roughness of tree bark and the worn textured wood of my parents staircase.

In the winter, although I spent more times indoors I was resistant to wearing socks, used to having hard soles, and chilly feet. Socks were an incumberance to being light footed, but as I got a little older it meant that I delveloped the cold feet and hands problems of the rest of the family and started wearing them regularly, although I still have days were I prefer to go barefoot, especially in the summer. There really is nothing like feeling the warmth of the earth or the textures of surfaces beneath your feet. Yes. My family do have hippy tendencies, how did you know?

It wasn’t until the last few years that I developed a passion for socks. It started with a pair of stripy socks bought in my first year at uni, and a pair of toe socks given to me by my braintwin thene (apparently she thinks girls in toe socks are hot).

I got more pairs of stripy socks when I moved to York – theres an excellent sock stall on the market. I have special purple stripy socks for those days when you know you need that little bit of extra magic in your life, and a pair of exceedingly comfy grey stripy socks for those days where I know I’m going to need to to be comfortable.

And with my learning to knit it wouldn’t be long before I started knitting socks.

My first few pairs were rather disasterous. My first pair were far to big, as I’d knitted them to the pattern that came with the yarn (fortunatly it turned out that pattern fits the fella perfectly.) and they were somewhat loose on my little feet.

My second pair had a skein end in the middle of one sock and the colour repeats ruined by it, and then I forgot to do the interspersed plain knit rows on the gusset…one very fitted sock, and one really ugly sock. They get worn over other socks in bed when my feet are really cold.

After that I finally worked out what size sock would actually fit my feet, and at last count I have 3 pairs of handmade socks that fit just fine.

I’ve got a pair of beautiful toe socks on the needles (which are completed up to the point where the toes start) and will start working on the slightly complicated toes as soon as my tax return is finished.

I love toe socks, and I’ve been thinking about making them since I started knitting, and up till the toe its the same as standard sock, but my toes are a little strange – too many pointy illfitting shoes in my teens – so I shall have to keep trying them on to check how the toes are progressing.

And socks of the future?

Well, I’m rather taken with a stranded sock pattern I’ve seen, and I have a couple of colourwork patterns I’d like to try, but I’m also rather tempted with trying toe up socks again. Decisions, decisions.

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