It was inevitable, really. Having tried pretty much everything else in my knitting career, I’ve finally succumbed to sock-knitting.
And my fear of developing a sock-knitting addiction? Hmm, probably justified, judging by the fact that I’m tempted to phone HR at work to find out whether they’ve got a special-leave-for-sock-knitting policy. (Surely they must have? They’re reasonable people, yeah?)
All right I admit it, sock knitters of the world: you were right. There is something special about pulling on a woolly, hand-knit, perfectly shaped sock that you’ve made yourself. The problem is, I’m turning into the knitting equivalent of one of those new parents who talks as though they’re the first person ever to reproduce. ‘Wow, you turn the heel like this? How marvellous! And look at this ribbing! Isn’t it astounding what you can create?’
‘Yes,’ replies the person sitting next to me, before informing me that they’ve been knitting socks for nigh-on 40 years and yes, they do already realize how neat a well-turned heel can look.
‘Oh,’ I sigh, slightly deflated.
Now I realize that there’s a tradition amongst internet-savvy sock-knitters to display their completed hosiery in a lovely pose that looks like it’s out of a manual of ballet positions. But this is TheTwistedYarn, and (i) I haven’t quite completed the second sock yet, and (ii) I was being climbed by the Toddler Twinnage whilst photographing my socky progress, which pretty much prevented anything elegant from occurring, and (iii) well, however lovely, these are pretty much just plain vanilla socks.
Still, the second sock is well underway:-
And as if this wasn’t addiction enough already, I found some Noro sock yarn languishing in a remaindered bin at the yarn shop. What was a girl to do? Can you even begin to imagine the wonderfulness of these future socks?
Anyway, if you need me, you’ll find me in the gutter, neglecting my life/family/job/sanity, but knitting socks. Lots of socks. All the socks. Oh yes. 🙂