I used to knit a lot. In fact I knit my first sweater, with buttonholes no less, when I was a teenager and recovering from major surgeries.
When my mother died suddenly on my 47th birthday I picked up knitting needles and knit a coat. I didn’t follow a pattern. I just knit…a visual manifestation of my grief.
I learned to knit wool socks about 15 years ago partially as a self-dare…oh I could never do that, they are so difficult, they are round with many needles! Not only could I do it but I enjoyed it and have been doing it since.
When I travel I knit socks. When I have to sit through an important meeting that would otherwise put me to sleep, I knit socks. Knitting socks allows my visually oriented brain to focus on the subject at hand while keeping my hands busy.
As part of my recent closet purge I happened across a myriad of knit socks as well as wonderfully designed cotton mens socks of which I have also amassed a collection. Some designer finally said heh, why should men (and women with long feet) have to wear ugly socks? So my collection of awesome cotton socks is now growing too.
Today I ventured into a store (which I generally avoid in December) and bought some nifty drawer organizers for my burgeoning sock collection. I wasn’t sure how many to buy as I was putting them into two drawers. I bought just enough with two slots to spare. I can now finish the current pair on the needles and just one more then I need another organizer or to toss some of the older ones.
I am pretty jazzed to have this art sculpture in my sock drawer!