So socks were the first knitting project that actually held my attention long enough to finish the damn thing before I got distracted by the next shiny object to cross my path and wandered off to do something new. ⁠

What can I say, the ADHD is strong in me, and I was terrifyingly unmedicated at the time.⁠

But socks…just about when you were getting bored with the cuff, it was time to do the leg. And then came the heel, and yet another chance to change things up a bit. Then comes a heel turn (which will feel like magic the first few times you do it) and ooooh, now you need to get rid of stitches for the gusset and sort out what to do with the foot. And just about when the foot feels like it has consumed the last bit of your will to live, you get to make some pretty toes.⁠

And each of those spots is a chance to go hmmm, this is a spot that could be shiny and new, I wonder what we can do here. Which is apparently enough to keep my brain happily ticking along.⁠

And yes, there is the dreaded second sock problem. Now I have always been something of a product knitter (I. Want. The. Thing. I. Made. So. I. Must. Finish. It. NOW.), so that’s not much of a problem for me. But I maintain that you can absolutely make two different socks and, as long as you make them from the same yarn, give them similar leg heights, and use even slightly related stitch patterns (ribbing with ribbing, lace with lace, cables with cables), literally no one will ever notice they don’t officially match and you can totally wear them as a pair. ⁠

But whether you knit them singly or in full pairs, socks pack a lot of chances to try little variations in a small space, and that’s what my brain needed to grab onto at the time.⁠

And oh…oh it’s fun to spend a little time with them again after all these years!⁠
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