A lost hand knitted sock.

Knitters, grab a tissue for I am about to share the saddest and most shameful knitting story I own....

Back on July 2nd I began knitting a beautiful pair of Malabrigo green merino socks for myself. The first sock was started while I attended my friend’s birth as a doula so it has all these beautiful memories that go with it. Touching, sappy, blah blah blah. I know. Sentimental knitting is over the top and I’m guilty.

I wrapped up the first, started the second. Whenever I knit socks I always carry the pair together because when people ask what I’m knitting I like to be able to show a finished sock and one in progress. I think it’s inspiring to wannabe or beginning knitters. So, time passed as I slowly worked the 2nd sock, and after finally wrapping it up on my trip to Utah I thought YEAH! Time to wash and block! I finished sewing the toe up the day before a big knitting/spinning social get together at a yarn store which essentially requires handknitted goods to be worn (oh, the pressure), but when I went to block I realized the 2nd sock was missing! It seemed I vaguely remembered setting it somewhere and thus searched the apartment up and down, up and down, and a third time over and still couldn’t find the first sock anywhere! I had to get going and settled on wearing an older pair of hand knitted socks, but vowed to find the lost mate when I got home. After I went out and returned, I walked up the old brick road next to my building admiring the fallen leaves, a beautiful sunny autumn day.

And then WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?! Oh my god, my handknitted sock was buried under crushed, goopy, muddy leaves. I picked it up, hardly the color it originally was and it had been driven over many times, three serious holes were torn in it, and it was ruined. All I can figure is it must have fallen out of my bag at some point.

I held back tears but I was devastated, weeping inside mostly. 10 or 12 hours down the drain, expensive and delightful wool, my dedication... wasted. I picked up the saddest sock I’d ever seen, carried it inside and have promised that I will learn to darn socks and make it whole again (and will likely knit a 3rd sock because it may be beyond repair). Rest in peace handknitted, abandoned, ruined but well-loved and never worn sock. Sigh.

And then I laughed hysterically.


  1. Oh dang, I feel your pain! What a devastating discovery.

  2. While sad, I feel like this sock wanted to find you. I think it would've been way worse and frustrating to have never found it at all. At least you got to see it on it's deathbed, so to speak - rather than wonder if it just left you for a life out in the Missing Sock Vortex.

    I'm glad you laughed in the end.


Post a Comment

Popular Posts