

They are slightly longer than my average sock--which when folded at the heel, has a foot about the same length as leg (these are about 1 inch taller)


The ridged ribs make it a nice snug sock--that looks good on LEGS and on my legs, too.
Secret socks took up most of Monday—they now have heels (a pair of heels) and then some.
Knitting (but totally non blogging!)
friends got to see them tonight at Tuesday knitting at Maducatis—All
3 secret socks—and one friend said—Oh I want to make these.. I
love this pattern, and another said the same about another pair--(a
good pattern for first time sock knitters) and everyone loved (but
no one claimed) the third pair. I guess I am on to something—some
of my ideas are right on target!
Kimberly loved the Violet Blue
socks—she (long, long ago, in pre-Ravelry days) knit a pair of
gloves with the same yarn.. Very unsuccessful gloves. Not quite a
pair (that is, not quite matching)--but 2 gloves that bore some
strange relationship to each other.
I reminder her about my first pair of
socks (many, many years ago!) They were argyles. Beautiful argyles.
Mostly white, with blue and dark maroon red diamonds. They
perfectly match a plaid skirt and my (oh, so popular then) “tennis
sweater”. The workmanship was perfect. The socks? Stiff and with
out a trace of ease or stretch. The legs were so tight, they
wouldn't have fit Olive Oyl's match-stick legs –and she would have
never gotten even her big toe into the opening! No human could wear
these socks.
The Best part? I knit them on DPN's,
one sock at a time. The first one I knit was a fit failure, and the
second sock, IDENTICAL. NEITHER sock was wearable. A perfect
pair—NOT. They looked lovely, but they weren't functioning socks.
It's easy to look at my socks today,
and marvel at my knitting skill—but what you don't see are the
failures. And there have been failures! Socks that were siblings
(not fraternal twins, no where near being identical twins. Sock knit
from the same yarn, but almost nothing matched. Not the cast on, nor
the cuffs, or body, or toe or size! I have in my time knit socks with
different gauge (that resulted in different sized socks)--and made
other monumentally obvious mistakes.
I am a good sock knitter (now) ,
because I have been such a terrible sock knitter—in the past. I
know how to do it right, but only because I've had so much experience
doing it wrong, over many years.
So for the next day or two, I will be
working on secret socks. And thinking about what to knit next.
I need to look at my list—Everywhere
yarn is clamoring to be knit--I have to find some plan!
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