Tangled

One of my personal New Year’s promises involves needles and string. Well, not string, precisely…it just feels like string since I’ve got the present length miserably tangled. Yarn—it’s yarn but I assure you it feels like a hank of boat rope as I try to mimic the motions in the knitting books Santa left beneath our tree. You see, I’ve always wanted to knit socks. I know, it sounds deceptively simple but I assure you it’s harder than it looks. Either that, or I’m hopelessly inept at sock-building.

I know the rudimentary stitches, and can whip up a respectable scarf in no time flat. But socks? That’s a whole other story!

A sad, tangled, frustrating story.

One of my Christmas gifts was the basic sock stuff: books, needles and yarn. Unfortunately the yarn isn’t “sock yarn”—which, if I may add, the book says I can get at my local “yarn shop”—so it’s fine for practicing stitches but it won’t work for making actual socks. And the “yarn shop” the book refers to so blithely? Ridiculous! We live in the middle of nowhere—I could search high and low and would be more likely to find an Agway or Quick Mart before stumbling upon a yarn shop.

Sheesh.

So here I am, knitting needles in hand and determination stiffening my spine as I ponder the best way to purchase sock yarn on line. I’d love to be able to feel the yarn, but since that’s not an option I suppose I’ll just have to wing it and take my chances. I may either have the softest or bulkiest socks this side of the Mississippi, but one way or another I’m going to have handmade knit socks.

I should hold book on how many toes and heels these socks are going to have. You know they’re going to be pretty funky, don’t you? I mean, it took me…well, I won’t say exactly how long it took me to learn to knit a rectangular scarf. Let’s just say the first try didn’t turn out perfectly. Or the second…or the…well, you get the idea.

Do you knit? Any sock-making hints you’d care to share?