Even though I love crochet, I have this not-so-secret desire to knit. I’ve tried. I’ve failed. I’ve asked for help and been directed to YouTube. It didn’t help. Learning to knit is on my bucket list (assuming I actually have a bucket list, which I don’t). My mom thinks I’m crazy. She barely understand the crochet thing, and is totally baffled at my desire to master knitting as well.
You can make stuff with one hook. Why do you want two?
I think it was the socks.
I have a love affair (borderline obsession) with Smartwool Socks. As the result of multiple injuries to my foot and ankle (I am a certified klutz), my left foot is very sensitive to cold. The pain can be almost crippling on a cold day. The only thing I’ve found that helps is encasing my poor foot and ankle in expensive wool socks. I’ve tried cheap wool, but the only thing that works are the smartwool ones. I’m so devoted to these socks that I will wear mismatched socks (wool on the right, cotton on the left) in different colors just to protect myself on a cold day.
Did I mention the suckers are $18 a pair and rarely go on sale?
I take good care of them, but eventually my precious wool socks have to be replaced. They wear out. So, when I found some at a discounted price, I stocked up.
I really “socked” away the savings. (sorry, lost control of myself).
I bought ten pair of socks all at once. I spent over $100 on socks — for me. My husband was not impressed with my “frugality.”
You spent how much on socks?!?!?
A few days later, I was wandering through Hobby Lobby and spotted an endcap display of lovely sock yarn.
I swear there was a beam of heavenly light shining on the yarn.
I promise there was a heavenly choir of angels singing in the background as I reached out to lovingly touch the yarn. For someone who had only crocheted in hateful acrylic or tedious cotton thread, the skein of merino wool was an awakening. It was my first discovery of just how yarn has changed in the past 20 years. And, it felt just like the wondrous wool of my beloved wool socks.
I did the math, and figured I could make a pair of wool socks for about $8. Clearly, this was even more frugal than buying socks on sale for $10. (this is clearly the deranged rambling of a woman taking on too much crafting).
And even better, my husband didn’t have to know that I was buying socks.
Now, I made a sock (singular) with crochet before. I used cotton thread and followed a pattern.
It looked like a sock, but don’t let looks deceive you.
The ankle would slide down and sag around my foot rather than staying up where it belonged. The mesh on the bottom of the sock made it feel like I was walking on a cheese grater.
So I cheerfully bought a sock loom to knit socks with. I was secretly thrilled to think I would finally be able to master knitting.
I watched the video… repeatedly. I followed along step by step with the video, pausing it to catch up. But I swear I must have bought the right-handed sock loom model. There must be some other model that is easier for lefties to use. After several hours and several bloodied knuckles, I concluded that I’m a failure at looming.
I still fantasize about socks.
If any knitters out there want to help me out, I have about a dozen skeins of sock wool that I have no use for. I’ll trade it all for one pair of hand knit socks. YarnHarlot, are you listening? (she has no idea who i am, but i lurk on her blog).
Does anyone out there share my obsession with a specific sock brand? Am I the only woman out there who failed to master the silly sock loom? Is it wrong to coax my children into a looming hobby just so I can get some socks?