Obsession

What is it with me and socks? My right hand is still numb. I'm committed to not knitting for a bit--well, at least not knitting with sock yarn. I've got to finish my Red Scarf Project. It's for the children, you know.

I knit my first pair of socks about 15 years ago. I promptly knitted another pair. Both were done in the time before I learned to cast on over two needles so that the circulation to my legs would not be so cut off that I would never wear my handmade socks. I then knitted a ribbed sock in cotton. Just one sock. I got bored in the ribbing, and accidentally made an anklet. I didn't finish that sock or its mate for 12 years.

But then Chris mentioned these snowflake socks on her blog today. I just went to look, just to take a peek really, and I'm in love. I want these socks. I can see myself in them already. I also want these and oh, these. Both are free PDFs from Vintage Purls. There's these too.

I love, love, love solid-colored lace socks. I have bought some cotton ones in the store over the years, but they're just not the same. They're too short, or too scratchy on the sole, or too apt to slide down in my shoe, or too stiff, or too whatever.* I own store-bought lace socks in white, pink, red, navy, and brown, but I want to throw them all out and make "real" socks.

I have a pink pair and a yellow pair of "real" socks now. I want more. Physically, I can't do it and it's making me sad. You know those squooshy hand exercise balls or stress relievers? Whenever I squeeze one of those it sounds like someone tearing off strips of tinfoil. The crunching sounds can be heard from across the room. It's not good.

But oh, those socks.


*how's that for parallel structure, kids? It wasn't as easy as it looks, I can tell you.