I've picked up my cross stitch again. This past Sunday a craft friend of mine came over, and we spent most of the day working on our projects. I'd stayed up late Saturday picking out the last of my previous mistake on Dragon's Tea, so I was all ready for a big day of stitching!
Looking back over what I accomplished, I realized I must have spent way too much time talking! But it was a lot of fun.
For the first time since I've started knitting socks, I've got two different socks on the needles. This is "against the rules" for me, because I'm the kind of person who could easily start half a dozen different projects, so many that I could never get them all finished. This would irritate me to no end, so I try not to have more than one of the same kind of project at one time. For example, one cross stitch project, one knitting project, one sewing project . . .
(I've stretched the rules a bit this on a knitting surprise . . . for another time!)
But I started a sock for my friend. I made her a pair of socks before, but I neglected to write down what size shoe she wears. I don't want to guess from my memory, because socks that don't fit are a bummer. And I know I would guess wrong. So I sent her an e-mail. I kept knitting along, until I got down past the heel, until I was afraid to go any further without knowing for sure. I hate ripping out, so i waited. . .
Its been almost a week, and I haven't heard back from her. I started a pair of funky socks for my sister. I've almost finished her first sock, and still no word back from my friend. I must admit, I'm a little hurt. Perhaps she wasn't as keen on her first pair of socks as I thought . . . maybe she doesn't actually want another pair of my lovely, time-consuming, love in each stitch handmade socks. grrrrrrrr.
My sister vows that she will love the funky socks no matter how bright and colorful they are. At least someone loves me . . . .growl.
People's reactions to hand-knit socks are very strange. They seem to take it for granted. I've given away about half the socks I've made, and I have recieved a grand total of one thank you note. I don't expect jumping up and down and squeels of glee (okay, yeah, I do -- ) and I can accept that non-knitters have maybe less of an understanding of exactly what kind of commitment it takes to churn out not just one, but a pair of handmade socks: casting on and joining without twisting, the magic of the heel turning, the anxiety of a hole-free guesset, the careful toe decreases. But a little gratitude doesn't seem like asking too much, does it?