I absolutely love knitting socks. The first thing I knit was a pair and they were the most hideous, worsted weight, fuzzy, fit for Yeti creations ever but I recall being very proud of them nonetheless. I think it is because they are so utilitarian. You can never have too many pairs of hand knit socks, especially if you commute by foot and bus in rainy Portland.
I also love to knit in public, am very shameless about it actually to the horror of my signifigant other. The result of knitting all these beautiful socks on tiny needles in public is everyone asking for a pair for Christmas. I never thought I would say it but I am starting to feel nauseous when I take those single socks that still need mates out of my knitting chest.
I have turned to hats and most recently baby hats, scads and scads of them. I'm in denial, I know it. I do have pregnant friends but only one is due before Christmas.
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