socks
I'm readying my sock drawer for Christmas. I LOVE getting socks for Christmas and every year, Santa puts some in my stocking. I especially love warm socks, probably because we keep our house at 64 degrees and the floor is freezing, especially in the kitchen where the flooring is tile.
I used to have a whole drawer full of warm socks, thick cotton and wool as well as smart wool blends. Then one day I realized, I had more socks than I had space for. I had socks in every color: cream, navy, sage, blue tweedy, charcoal, red, purple even socks with stripes. I used to wear them to school every day with my birkenstocks, a habit that earned me laughter from my students I later learned. I wore them around the house constantly.
Eventually my socks started to wear out, and in the spirit of conservation, I decided I'd wear 'em all until there were none left. I also decided that when they got huge holes in the heel that I couldn't mend, I would throw them away. Even my favorites. The thought of throwing away favorite socks is still hard for me. I remember fondly the red Rhoner brand socks Bob got me our first Christmas in Unalakleet. I think of the purple pair I found at Eddie Bauer that I blew the toe out of years ago.
Tonight, I sorted my socks in preparation for Christmas. I paired up each one, put the mateless, lonely socks into a bag, and threw the last of the laundry in, hoping to find the missing matches. In this process I realized something sad... I only have 3 pairs of good warm socks left. Granted, I have warm socks, but 3 of my 6 pairs are socks I inherited from my dad. This means they're huge, grey, polyester blend things with black and red stripes at the top. The type of socks that slide down off your foot and into your boots when you wear them. The type of socks I really should get rid of, but I can't because they once belonged to my dad.
So I'm putting my Christmas wish out into the universe. I'm asking Santa to bring me colorful, warm socks that will stay up when I wear them. Socks that keep my toes toasty in my slippers and fit my many wintery moods.
So I hope you're listening Santa... my toes need you.
I used to have a whole drawer full of warm socks, thick cotton and wool as well as smart wool blends. Then one day I realized, I had more socks than I had space for. I had socks in every color: cream, navy, sage, blue tweedy, charcoal, red, purple even socks with stripes. I used to wear them to school every day with my birkenstocks, a habit that earned me laughter from my students I later learned. I wore them around the house constantly.
Eventually my socks started to wear out, and in the spirit of conservation, I decided I'd wear 'em all until there were none left. I also decided that when they got huge holes in the heel that I couldn't mend, I would throw them away. Even my favorites. The thought of throwing away favorite socks is still hard for me. I remember fondly the red Rhoner brand socks Bob got me our first Christmas in Unalakleet. I think of the purple pair I found at Eddie Bauer that I blew the toe out of years ago.
Tonight, I sorted my socks in preparation for Christmas. I paired up each one, put the mateless, lonely socks into a bag, and threw the last of the laundry in, hoping to find the missing matches. In this process I realized something sad... I only have 3 pairs of good warm socks left. Granted, I have warm socks, but 3 of my 6 pairs are socks I inherited from my dad. This means they're huge, grey, polyester blend things with black and red stripes at the top. The type of socks that slide down off your foot and into your boots when you wear them. The type of socks I really should get rid of, but I can't because they once belonged to my dad.
So I'm putting my Christmas wish out into the universe. I'm asking Santa to bring me colorful, warm socks that will stay up when I wear them. Socks that keep my toes toasty in my slippers and fit my many wintery moods.
So I hope you're listening Santa... my toes need you.
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