Well, well, well. That looks like a load of socks.
I know it's traditional at the end of a year to look forward to a new beginning and set goals for the betterment of so on and so forth, but try remember the importance of looking back too.
Every project needs a close down; lessons learnt, mistakes made, and if worst comes to worst, removal of evidence. So with that in mind, let's look at last year's goal.
I set out to knit 12 pairs of socks, one for every month, and to blog about it for your entertainment. I did this to make sure I had regular crafting sessions (as they are so very helpful for my mental health), to improve my sock knitting technique (to help future socks designs), to feed my ravenous sock drawer (so cozy) and to help me destash my over-inflated sock yarn box (no regrets).
I didn't knit 12 pairs of socks - I knit 13. 13! And some other stuff too! By around April I wasn't even sure I'd manage one pair a month. I was behind schedule, sick of socks, and craving something craftable that wasn't 4-ply. By the end I even managed a bonus pair and finished a week early.
I managed at least one blog post a month, though this is a relatively low bar I'll admit. Job done, but do better next time.
I had an excuse for constant knitting. I've got my sock technique down pat and recorded for future reference, even if the pattern needs refinement before anyone else can understand it. My sock drawer is bright and colourful and bursting at the seams (but still not enough!). And my sock yarn stash is reasonable enough that I can keep my odd bods of 4-ply nested alongside. That seems like an all-round success, no?
Lessons learned:
My feet are bigger than I thought they were. Or maybe they got bigger, I don't know. Either way, adding an extra four stitches to my sock pattern may take a bit more time and yarn, but is worth it to have socks that are comfy rather than just snug.
Those pains in your hands? Not helped by your high-tension gauge. Calm down, relax your hands, and let the yarn fall where it will.
Related: if you are making a conscious effort to relax your tension, be warned that any old WIPs knit with your 'standard' tension will now be off-gauge. It seems obvious, I know, but it still surprised me somehow.
Knitting while walking around is fun, but can be dangerous. Don't knit while crossing roads or in other dangerous situations, and watch where you step on uneven ground.
Also, you will greatly miss knit-walking when winter comes. That or you will lose your fingers to frostbite.
Deadlines don't have to be awful. Sometimes introducing structure and restrictions to something very free-form can be really rewarding, because, hey, you did it! No one told you to do it, but you did it anyway. And now you have socks! Well done.
Knitting is something that non-knitters think they can have a polite conversation about, but no matter how interested they seem at first they will glaze over and lose focus when you start talking about your preferred gusset placement. It's not their fault - they just don't know how important it is.
Yes, most of sock knitting is perfect mindless TV knitting. Please remember that this does not apply to the toe, heel or cuff. When knitting during a wrestling PPV, leave the heel turns to the wrestlers.
Even when everything is terrible, and life is bleak and grey and you can't be bothered with existence anymore, there's something fundamentally hopeful about a half finished sock.
I have a sock yarn addiction. This is fine.
