Sockfest, the Sequel

I’m in a ton of socks today, it seems. Yes, I washed a bunch of socks, so that was good. But there are other socks in the house, and they were getting restless that the other socks were having all the fun. Even though the ends were not tucked in yet, they demanded equal time:

a4a socks

These are my baby and children’s socks for Afghans for Afghans. There are a couple of more that I finished earlier that are at Bluebird. It’s great to finish up using all the scraps from the Log Cabin blanket, and the Radiance Cabled Cardigan, and other miscellaneous sock yarn bits for the toes and heels. I think I’ve perfected two techniques now — Lucy Neatby’s garter stitch heel, and the German twisted cast-on. It’s nice to have them in my memory bank (for now at least!).



I needed to wash a bunch of my socks, and put them out to dry on the sweater dryer (with a small fan to move things along):

Handknit socks

Seeing them there, it took me back a year or two ago. Originally I had the goal of having a full week’s worth of handknit socks.  The number above is eight pairs.  I remembered that I have a couple of pairs in the drawer, and then there are a couple of pairs that I wear as house socks in bed.  Twelve pairs of handknit socks, just for me, 10 to wear outdoors in the real world.

This is pretty astonishing to me since I didn’t even start knitting socks til about seven years ago.  They looked hard, and there was general terror over “turning the heel.”  I started with a cute Little Speckled Toes baby sock from Cabin Fever. It was then that I realized that the complicated sweaters I had made were much harder. And a bunch of my church offices have been on the ground floor without much heating, so it makes sense that having warm socks in winter has been a good thing.

As you can tell from looking at these, a couple of times I’ve gotten fancy, but my sock-knitting tends to be on the relaxation end of things, rather than the ambitious math-bending sort.  That’s ok, because they are on my feet, covered by shoes and pants.  A peek of color, and either a lovely feel or hard-wearing fiber (ideally both!) is all I ask of a sock.

In looking at all these socks, I’m realizing why my sock yarn stash is pretty modest — I don’t need more socks at this point!  Not that I’ll stop knitting them, but they’ll be for other folks, and I’ll purchase the yarn on a need-to-knit basis.