Well, I was so struck by that idea - somebody who loves handknit socks and doesn't know how to knit and only knows one person who would ever knit socks for her - I was overcome with the feeling that I must knit socks for Ady.
For the last four weeks as I worked on my second pair of boot socks, I've been planning Ady's socks, which were next up in the queue. I asked her at Christmas on the phone to give me her foot measurements some time, and then I e-mailed her a reminder, and then I considered yarn:

But would lightweight really be right? Ady, the first year I knew her, wore heavier woolly socks.
In fact that is mostly what she's worn, often in Birkenstocks, often in winter. She was the first friend I had who does that, and somehow even in the 80s she made them look hip. Ady is incredible that way - she has such a sense of style and such a way of holding herself. Sometimes I see her dressed up at funerals and she looks so fantastic in prints and shapes I would have written off as intended for older ladies had I seen them on a rack, I just want her to take me shopping. She's constantly pushing me to consider new ideas about visual art.
So I thought about this yarn:

Then I heard that intelligent people use their Twisted Fiber Art heavier weight yarns for socks - why did this never occur to me? - so I got this Duchess combo out of the stash cupboard:

Or maybe I should just give her these.

It was the weirdest thing. I didn't notice till I'd turned the heels, and then I pretended it wasn't true and kept going, but by the time I was finished one and getting on with the cuff of the other I had to stop and call her to get those measurements once and for all.
She didn't even say Hello when she picked up, just "I don't. Believe it. I was just about to hit 'send' on e-mailing you my foot measurements!" Well, I believed it. I asked her to read me the e-mail and:
I couldn't have knit these socks more perfectly if I'd been fitting them for the duration. Two shoe sizes up from my own and wider too - they were Ady's socks the whole time and I didn't know it.


6 comments:
Socks always know where they're supposed to go- we just have to listen to them! Ady is a lucky woman.
Oh- I love the new blog look!
Lucky you to have a friend like Ady. I can't imagine a non-knitter so in tune with the knitting process.
Love how the universe guides us, if we listen. Also liking the new blog design and thriving on all your wonderful posts. This has become a "go to" for even my grumpiest days. Thanks!
Aw, thanks justmeandtwo! and this is a sick day for me, too, what a nice lift :^)
I'm in agreement with Kathleen, socks always do seem to know who they are meant for. I was knitting a pair for me in January, and I found myself giving them to a guy who expressed a delight and interest in them when they were finished.
I am so pleased I did.
I recently had a similar experience. I gave a pair of mittens to a friend. I had thought I was knitting them for myself whereas all along they were meant to be hers.
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