Monday, September 03, 2007
Knitting on the Road
Since May, my lone Conwy from Knitting on the Road, has been languishing. The suspicious disappearance of its mate in security in Madrid has been a surprisingly difficult emotional blow. I have given a great deal of thought to the lonesome sock #2. I seriously considered just ripping it out: after all, I'm not all that happy about the rampant pooling of the pretty colours. I also could not locate the tag, which I assume was thrown out by the grandparents while we were out of the country, and so I didn't have a hope in matching the colours to another skein. However, I went ahead and ordered a replacement earlier this summer, balled it up, and stuck it in my bag. Where it stayed.
Yesterday morning I pulled out the half-made sock, the new ball, and the book, and had a long moment with them all. I decided that the lone sock reminds me so strongly of meandering through olive groves on a tour bus north through Adalusia, that I absolutely have to keep it. I love the feel of the yarn so much that I will go ahead, make a mate, and complete the socks. I have had to stop fussing about the fact that the socks don't match. They cannot match. They will never match. I must just love them for what they are.
I made a great deal of progress on sock #3 this weekend, attaching new memories to the pair of socks, for we were high up the mountains in a condo with some friends.