I am a yarn and sock dork. I know that I’m not alone, and so I know that there will be at least a few of you who understand the wonder and the glory of what I am about to show you.
These socks match precisely, right down to the last stitch.
Not close, not good enough, not one of those things that only the knitter notices, not close enough for company work, not close enough for jazz — nope. Perfectly. Totally perfectly. That almost never happens with a self patterning yarn. I mean, what are the odds that everything – every row, every stitch…
everything, right down to starting the second sock in exactly the right spot, then beginning the heel on precisely the same row and placing the toe in the same spot would all work out and make every thing so completely matchy? There wasn’t a knot that threw it out of whack (Noro I am looking right at you), there wasn’t one skein printed a little differently…
Nothing. They are perfect. Absolutely perfect, and in a knitters world, there are just too many variables for that to happen much… and in my world, a world full of holes in my house and rain in the basement and mud (oh, the mud) and teenagers and bills and books and one really weird cat and a husband who’s odd as fish really…. I almost never plan something to perfection and then have it come off without a hitch. Mostly, I have to let go of my quest for total control.
Not this time. Sure, other projects will go on to screw me over, absolutely the next pair of self-patterning yarn will have a knot that means the toes are two different colours, and when that happens, I’ll accept it, just the same way we all suck up the worlds imperfections. You can’t have things your way all the time. Got it – but today?
Today I am a knitter, and my socks match anyway.