I don’t know about you, but I love starting new things. There’s the excitement of a new project, the anticipation of the result, and dreams about how it will be used–as a gift, for a craft sale, or simply for personal pleasure. As most who know me understand, I love to knit. I’m seldom seen without a project, and it’s rare when I watch television without knitting needles in my hand. I wake up in the morning thinking about what I will knit and go to sleep thinking about patterns and colorful yarn.
In the past year I’ve knitted hundreds of things. I do not exaggerate. You see, I can do that because I am not a fancy knitter. Unlike a woman I know at our local yarn shop, I do not dream of becoming a master knitter. I’m satisfied to make things as simple as washcloths, baby booties, stocking caps, fingerless mitts, and scarves. On occasion I tackle something larger…a shawl, or even a sweater. So why do I struggle with socks?
The other day someone in my knitting group suggested that I have “one sock syndrome.” When I returned home, I searched through my unfinished projects to see how many pairs of socks remained incomplete. I found three, as you can see in the above picture. I couldn’t finish the red cabled house sock because it looked too large. Yet I am too stubborn to rip it out. After all, the cables were a lot of work! The brown socks stand a good chance of being finished. After all, they are a solid color and have a definite patterned stitch that should help in making the second sock match the first one. You see, I have a hangup about knitting mismatched socks. I want them to be perfect–the same size, and if the yarn is self-striping, I want the stripes to match!
That is why the third pair (pink, purple, and white) remains unfinished. The chances of making a second sock to match the striping of the first intimidates me! My knitting friend tells me that I’m being foolish because no one matches socks any more. As long as the socks are made from the same yarn, the stripes don’t matter. Here’s to letting go and seeing what happens. Crazy socks, anyone?