I participated in Sock Madness II this year, and once again I made it only to level two before being eliminated. Who am I kidding? I don't knit for speed, but for the relaxing nature of knitting. Still, it's good to know that I'm consistent, having made the same showing as the year before. And I love a good challenge.
The result is the Zombie socks.
I used a mystery colorway of Blue Moon Socks That Rock that I obtained from their barn sale in Scappoose last November. The scattered bits of red and charred black just screamed "zombie" to me.
I have to admit to not being terribly thrilled with the socks. And I take full responsibility for that. I have seen and felt socks knit with Socks that Rock that look gorgeous and feel heavenly. The fabric has a wonderful drape and density. I think I should have knit these socks on a smaller needle size (or two). Has anyone else out there noticed that the longer they knit, the more they start needing to use smaller needles, or is it just me? I overheard a conversation in a knitting store where two ladies were discussing this phenomenon, and one said to the other, "I hope I don't end up having to knit on ought-4's". Yeah, no kidding.
Another reason I didn't particularly like the socks is the same reason why other people love them. If we all thought exactly the same way we wouldn't have much to talk about, would we? And I'm cool with that.
It's the runs in them, or what I refer to as holes. They were really fun to knit, but for me not so much to look at or wear. To me they look like I poked my fingers through them when trying to put the socks on.
There are sock patterns out there that incorporate lace in them, with the yarn overs creating a delicate design. I look forward to knitting and wearing some of those. My favorite sock patterns, though, have more texture than, well, holes.
So I put these socks in the limbo knitting basket. You know the one: it holds projects that you're not quite sure what to do with, or misbehaving yarn that you wound thinking it would be perfect for this pattern, but was not. I couldn't decide if I wanted to frog the socks and make something for myself that I would really like, because if I didn't like these, who would?
Enter my mom. She was here for a visit and happened upon the socks and gasped. I'm like, "I know, aren't they awful?" and she very reverently proclaimed them to be the most beautiful socks she had ever seen. Flippantly I asked, "Do you want them?" Another gasp. A speechless nod yes.
So the story has a happy ending after all.
My mommy loves her socks. And they couldn't be going to a nicer home.