Matching

j's socks

So clever this modern wool. One ball per sock, bog-standard basic pattern but funkadelic wool makes it look like fairisle and they even appear like a properly matching pair. Being DK weight (ie thicker than that of the other two pairs) they’re knitting up like shit off a shovel. These are birthday-Christmas-thankyou hiking socks for J, our new-year hostess.

Third pair of socks in less than a month. Where have they been all my life? Still, better late than never. The structure of them is so pleasing. Everything divisible by four. And no seams to sew up at the end, all marvellously 3D and sculptural by virtue of the nest of needles.

Next project has to be bed socks in the cashmere yarn I got in the summer sales. It’s a rather nasty colour, but it’s the warmth that’s the point. For ME. Because my feet get horribly cold in bed in the winter, and if I don’t make them soon winter will be over.

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5 Comments on “Matching”

  1. Neha says:

    Don’t you have some sort of Yarn-Wishlist – that you can link to at the blog – and your reader (who love you, they do!) – can buy for you? The colours, the weight and the texture you like? πŸ™‚

  2. rr says:

    Neha, that’s such a lovely lovely idea. If only Amazon sold wool! Actually I bet that some of the independent yarn shops in London would consider doing wish-lists if someone suggested it. One year a friend gave me some lovely yarn with strict instructions that I make something for myself and not the children. Possibly with half an eye to saving the children from my knitted outpourings πŸ™‚ It was a lovely present.

    But actually I have a dark secret. A big dark secret. Actually a *huge* and multicoloured secret. I have vast quantities of wool in my house. It’s known as a yarn stash and is a widespread phenomenon amongst knitters. I have much more than this person, for instance, although I’ve never actually bathed in it.

    Mine has slowly accumulated over more than 20 years of buying half-price wool in sales just because it was there and *cheap*. Sigh. I acquired yarn at a faster rate than I turned it into fabric. It’s a snare and a delusion because buying yarn without a specific project in mind usually means it ends up gathering dust somewhere. It also tends to be not-entirely-lovely colours and not-entirely-exciting fibres since these, obviously, are what haven’t sold out already and end up being discounted. Another reason why they don’t get used up very readily. And often in a silly amount – not enough for a jumper, far too much for a hat for example.

    Luckily the current impoverishment means this hoarding tendency has been greatly curtailed and I’m only allowed to buy new yarn for very specific projects, not for me and only when I have enough money. These self-imposed rules seem to be working (ahem. cough. mostly). This obviously doesn’t mean I don’t lust after stuff. But one way round this is for me to knit things for other people who might be in need of socks, for instance…

  3. Neha says:

    I knew it! You are a hoarder! You have more in common with those furry squirrels than you realize. πŸ™‚ We can’t buy you happiness, but we can buy you yarn – and going by the knitted outpourings – it does appear like it’s a reasonable substitute. Perhaps we should commission you for custom-made socks. In class the other day, we were discussing this fabulous idea of Local Exchange Trading Systems (LETS). Where there is no hard currency, and instead, you exchange services. So technically you are not earning money – but instead receiving services (let’s say two hours of babysitting for a pair of wonderful socks!).

    If I had your talent, I’d be getting someone to clean my house, cook my meals and drive me places! πŸ™‚

  4. rr says:

    Now that’s a really interesting thought. It’s one I’ve already investigated thoroughly, at Jean’s suggestion, and my initial excitement was dashed when I discovered that both the local LETS groups were dormant/dead. There’s a north-London-wide group but joining requires going to a meeting in the evening during the week. Which would require a babysitter. Which is what I would most want from LETS and currently can’t afford. Oh the irony. However should anyone wish to acquire socks (or any other knitted something) in exchange for babysitting please get in touch!

  5. the sylph says:

    they’re gorgeous! perfect for bog-trotting some autumn day.


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