Ahh, the classic school essay, “What I did on my summer vacation”.
Suddenly, I discovered sock knitting. And it was just in time for summer, when the idea of a heavy pile of wool on your lap is really kind of gross. So I pulled all of my sock yarn out of my stash and piled it up on top of the bookshelves in my living room and started making socks.
Okay. Back up.
I made one pair of socks, using some pretty green stuff from Fleur de Fiber, which is awesome stuff dyed by my friend Angela.
Lo, I realized that I liked making socks! I had more hats and scarves than any one person needs, so this revelation was welcome, because I don’t believe that it’s possible to have too many socks.
And then I took an incredible vacation to Barcelona and brought back yarn from three different Catalonian yarn shops. How I failed to blog this adventure I do not know, and I shall never forgive myself. One of my Barcelona finds was this wonderful blue-brown Greta and the Fibers, which is dyed locally in Barcelona and sold at an adorable yarn shop in El Gotic called All You Knit Is Love. As soon as I was back in Chicago, I got to work and made these Zora socks.
Then there were the purple Monkey socks…
And a serious case of Aquaphobia, which ended up with some funky color pooling around the heel, like Mary Jane straps.
So it was a pretty socktacular summer.
And where does the Great Sock Caper currently stand? I currently have two pairs on the needles. This is one of them.
The other pair is in a bag at the bottom of my work tote and I’m too lazy right now to get up to find it and take a picture. Socks on a Plane is my first ever pair of toe-up socks. One of the things I really, really love about knitting is that there’s always something new to learn. And the pretty colors. This colorway by Gnome Acres (curse you, Brent, for the introduction!) is called “There’s No Place Like Gnome”, and it’s pretty crazy looking. How could anyone resist that hot mess??
All of this, and you still would not believe the pile of sock yarn hanging out on the bookshelves. It’s like tribbles, I turn my back on it and the pile just grows.