When our youngest was four I started knitting a pair of socks for him. He wanted camouflage socks, which at the time were impossible to find, even online, so I promised him I would figure out a way to make him some. I picked two colors that suited and cast on.
The pattern was fussy, I spent a lot of time with my head in the pattern book, painstakingly knitting stitch by stitch.
Then one day we found camo socks at Target. We weren't even looking for them. The urgency was gone. I stuffed the socks, needles and yarn in a Ziploc bag and tucked them away.
Knowing the way I knit (slowly!) I had cast on a large size back in 2011. This fall I got to thinking that maybe I could finish them and give them to him for Christmas.
They were still the same fussy socks.
It was a challenge just to find my place in the pattern. I finally did, and inched forward. I inched right past Christmas.
Today is Valentine's Day. I keep chipping away at these socks. Maybe it's a race against time, against those sweet feet outgrowing them. Or my old knitting rule, "don't give up." Either way, stitch by stitch they are looking more like socks.
Several times I have discovered I have the wrong number of stitches on my needle. I've just added or decreased to make it right - out the window with the pattern!
Because now he is six. Yes, I am racing aren't I?
I realized he won't care if there's a little hole where I had to add a missing stitch, or a little bump where I had to turn two stitches into one. He will love them.
And anyway they're socks. They go in shoes. You can't even see them.
I was telling my husband about my latest foibles with the now legendary camo socks - how for days I have been vexed by a complete disconnect between the number of stitches the book said I should have and the number I actually had. How I did the math over and over again and I was sure I was right and the book was wrong... until I realized I had followed the directions for turning the heel in a smaller size than the size I had knit the foot.
And those socks just seemed like a big flashing light all of a sudden.
A hey-take-life-less-seriously-holes-can-be-hidden reminder.
An are-you-asking-the-right-questions query.
A love-covers-over-a-multitude-of-knit2togethers-and-make1s comfort.
They're just socks.
It's just life.
And I'm just a slow-paced, holey, bumpy, mama who still gets loads of love.
I can look at the holes and bumps, or I can look at the love. I choose. They're both there, and that's not going to stop.
Happy Valentine's Day. I hope you get all your lumps and bumps squeezed tight by the people in your life today. And if your house is as disastrous as mine, I hope that we both will see all the love in the middle of this beautiful mess.
It's all a big holey holy gift.
That last line reminds me... If you are looking for something to read this Lenten season, consider getting a copy of Kris Camealy's Holey Wholly Holy. You'll be challenged and blessed!
This is beautiful, Patti! Absolutely beautiful!
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