There was a time that I could churn out a pair of socks in a week, often with a couple of days to spare.  My most speedy of efforts was knitting a whole sock in  a day  – okay it was double knit, but it was man size – whilst waiting for hubby to be seen by doctors, assessed and then going down to theatre for a small operation on a raging cyst on his back, I think my fingers flew through the anxiety.

These days I barely have the time to pick up a sock, I often still carry one, tucked into my camera or hand bag, ready for that moment when the stars and planets align and the urge to knit combines with a moments rest and for a full eclipse a good coffee.  There are weeks that I have gone to my knitting group that I haven’t actually knitted a stitch since the three rows that I did the previous week before the conversation became so bubbly so as to take over the mornings knitting.

And do you know what? I just don’t mind. I have a problem that my socks are falling to bits faster than I am knitting, but we are near to the end of the winter, so that’s not so bad. And if I could just match a few of the odd socks up it would all be fine, if not you’ll be seeing a new invention of hand knitted odd socks on the Mandycharlie catwalk next winter.  Nobody would even notice in London, its so diverse, I am sure it would be the talk of Warwickshire!

These I finished the evening before our day out in Brighton. Pretty aren’t they?  I have no idea of the sock yarn, it would have been a German manufacturer, either Regia or Opal sock 4ply knit on my usual 60 stitches in the round on 2.5mm needles. And as usual they are deliciously toasty warm, everything a good hand knit sock should be.