The Single Twin

I try to be a woman of my word. When I say I'll do something, I do my best to do it. Except answer email. That takes about five promises from me to get me to do it.

I had every intention of finishing my latest sock creation today so I could show you a picture of it. I'd promised to keep knitting talk to Tuesdays. I'd promised to post a photo. The goals were set and all was on track until 1:30 this afternoon - my pre-determined knitting time - when the doorbell rang.

I normally despise unannounced visitors but this turned out to be a nice treat. My first German tutor - an American lady married to a German man and now living near Erfurt - happened to be in Magdeburg visiting her husband's family for the Easter holiday and since they were in my neighborhood shopping they decided to drop by.

Heather and I had lost touch since I'd moved to this apartment. I meant to send her our new address but when I went to send her a card I couldn't find her address. I kept hoping that I'd run into it sometime but as the months went by I didn't have any luck. Believe me, I looked for it. Heather finally figured out that I'd moved when the last card she sent me was returned to her and so when she and her husband were here at a post office they grabbed a phone book and found our new address. As luck would have it they were at the post office that's just a few blocks away from me so they took the chance that I'd be home and dropped by for a brief visit. As is par for the course my apartment wasn't in shape for visitors but we were so happy to connect with one another again it didn't matter. We had to cram in a lot of talk in a short amount of time so my knitting was put aside for the time being.

By the time Heather and her husband left my knitting time allotment was gone and I had to plunge into my other Tuesday duties and errands. But as I said, I try to be a woman of my word. I was determined to have a finished sock to show you today so I've spent the last couple hours furiously finishing the toe and grafting it closed. All to show you this:



Now that's a bad ass sock. Look at that heel! That's the most perfect flap heel I've ever made. And the toe? Does that toe not kick some ass or what? When I'd started the sock I had some concerns that the colorway wouldn't be suitable for the Jaywalker socks pattern but just look at it! That colorway and that pattern could not compliment one another any better. I am simply in awe of my knitting genius. Or perhaps it's just knitting luck. In either case, that's one perfecto sock.

And unfortunately it seems destined to remain so. I mentioned last week that I can't find the other skein of yarn to make this sock's mate so perhaps this poor sock is destined to remain single. A solitary example of knitting joy when everything came together just right. Well, almost everything. There's a place on the sole where a couple stitches are wonky but it lends a bit of character to an otherwise gorgeous sock.

But this single sock shall not go unwanted and unloved. Ginnie gave me the yarn that produced it - Regia yarn that always knits up so lovely - and so this sock is going to Ginnie as a keepsake. She will love this sock as if it were a part of a pair even though it may be destined to remain unworn forever. Unworn but never unloved. If there's anyone who can appreciate a single sock, it's Ginnie. Ginnie finds joy and beauty in everything.

The other skein of yarn isn't lost forever. It can't be. I know I haven't thrown it out. That's my problem. I am terrible at throwing things out and things, needed or not, tend to get tucked away in whatever space I can find and therefore become very difficult to locate later on when they're needed.

When I find that other skein I'm going to knit it up to be just as perfect as today's creation, minus the wonky stitches on the sole, and I'll send it on to Ginnie as well and at last it'll be united with its earlier created twin. I'm gonna want to see a picture of them both on Ginnie's feet when that day comes.

What do you want to bet the misplaced skein of yarn is holed up somewhere with Heather's address?