If 'second sock syndrome' was a disease, I would be Stage Four.
Don't get me wrong. I love knitting socks. They are the perfect-sized project to stuff into the car's glove compartment or the perfect mindless knitting when too little time or too much life makes complicated projects a challenge.
But this pair
I think it might be because I asked myself "How many pairs of socks does one person need?"
One person, you ask? Could you not knit socks for someone else?
Yes, I could. And in my past knitting life, perhaps, have. But seeing too often, the gift recipient's horrifying look of
" What the heck made you think I would wear this?" or clearly hearing the unspoken
"I will put this with last year's fruit cake", I no longer knit for anyone else unless they ask me.
Mind you, I admit there is more than one way to ask. Like last Christmas, when my youngest sister asked.
"Brenda, did you knit your socks? They are s-o-o-o-o cool!
Or in mid February when she came to visit and asked,
"Brenda, did you knit your socks? They are s-o-o-o-o neat!"
Okay, okay. So it's the oldest trick in the knitters handbook: flatter the knitter and you will get hand knitting without having to ask. I'm certain that she asked in that manner because she was saying to herself,
'I'd love to ask Brenda to knit me a pair of socks. But knowing the tremendous amount of time and talent required to turn all those tiny, tiny stitches into socks, I just can't.
So, having recovered from 'second sock syndrome' with no ill effects and because she twisted my arm and asked so nicely, these socks will go to Lori.
PS - Only two more sleeps until the big day. The Southampton Knit Group is coming to visit the Meaford Knit Group. There will be yarn shopping, eating and knitting. Woo Hoo. can't wait.