Sunday 18 July 2021

Hand knitted socks,

well knitted socks...oh my feet love them!

I am the fortunate owner of more than one pair. The Senior Cat is the fortunate owner of more than one pair. We have a wonderful friend who knits them. 

I... is much better at knitting socks than I am. She keeps notes too. Our socks fit perfectly. The socks she makes for other people fit perfectly too.  I thought this as I put aside some sock wool I was given to give to her.

I also thought of the other sock knitters I have known, two in particular. The first was my paternal grandmother. One of my childhood memories is of sitting on the front steps of my grandparents' home reading to her as she knitted a grey sock. I think the sock was probably for my grandfather. He wore grey socks during the week and much finer black socks on Sundays. He had no other socks. Summer and winter alike he wore hand knitted socks when he wore shoes. Other than that he wore brown leather sandals without socks. 

I suppose I must have been about three at the time. I know I was still struggling with the reading process. My grandmother, ever the patient teacher, would help me with the words - but only when I had first tried myself. This extraordinary woman with only three formal years of schooling was a natural teacher.  She was also a superb knitter. The sock process was especially fascinating. It took me almost fifteen years to knit my first pair of socks. I still cannot do it as well as she could. 

Pattern? Of course not! My grandfather's socks were always completely plain. Socks for children were different. My brother had long school socks with stripes at the top. He had long Sunday socks with small cables at the top. I had short socks with the same cables in the ribbing section. I also had plain socks embroidered with tiny grub roses. Grandma was a grub rose expert.  And had school socks too of course. I remember my mother washing them - by hand. 

And then there was my friend M...  M...spent a very long time living in a hospital. There was nowhere else for her to go. It didn't stop her being useful, very useful. The staff would help her into her electric wheelchair each morning and, oxygen bottle on behind, she would speed all over the hospital and "hold hands" with anxious parents or deliver documents to other places. She took her knitting with her. I don't know how many pairs of socks she made but it would not be an exaggeration to say "hundreds". The surgeons used to put in orders - apparently they were invaluable on feet in the operating theatres.  Her socks were not plain either. She made socks with trains running around the tops, with dragons on them, with smiley faces and much more. 

When M.... died people were asked to wear a pair of her socks at her funeral - and leave their shoes at the door. There were a lot of shoes there. I saw one of the surgeons recently. He retired some years ago but he stuck out a foot and showed me he is still wearing them. His darning skills have been put to use on some but they have lasted.

There is something about hand knitted socks. They are more than "just a pair of socks". Real skill has gone into the making of a good pair. 

Not everyone who knits will knit socks. Some knitters will never knit a pair. Others will knit just one pair but there are others my grandmother, like I.... and M... who will knit many pairs. They understand what feet need and have taught me how important it is to have hand knitted socks on a cold winter morning.   

1 comment:

jeanfromcornwall said...

Ah yes the therapeutic properties of WOOL!!! I have been putting my wooly socks away for the summer recently, and I do not dare count them - but I always used to say that a ball of sock wool was a cheap bit of retail therapy when some people would need gemstones or silly handbags!
I shan't be knitting any more - I have enough for waaay beyond the rest of my life, and the leftovers have all gone into random coloured mitre-square blankets, and the wool continues to soothe and sustain us.