Hi, I'm Sarah. I'm a Sock Knitting Addict. I can't stop knitting socks since I learned. What is it about socks? You can't just knit one! Even if all the others are a sock of a different yarn. Socks are addicting, socks are amazing! You defy all sense by taking 4-5 short, double-pointed sticks, alot of yards of basically of string, add of a fair amount of time, mix it all together and out comes socks. Socks of all colors, patterns, types. You can make socks of silk, wool, cotton, nylon, acrylic, cashmere, hell even camel or wool/nylon blends with aloe and jobo oil mixed in to baby your feet all day! No two pairs are exactly alike. And once you try handknitted socks, there is no going back. They are magically, they make your feet sing, make you think you can run a marathon, and dance all night. Ahh... the magic of handknitted socks.

Sure, you can buy the super-size pack of socks at Wal-Mart 6 pairs for 10 dollars? But why? Why, when you can express with socks that actually fit your feet and express your inner knitter in ways that no other knitwear can!

You would think with such an introduction, I've been knitting socks my whole life, but I'll confess this is a new addiction. Before coming to see the light of knited socks, I was mainly one of those scarf knitters. I probably have knitted 200 scarves. What in the world do I need 200 scarves for? Everyone that came within 20 feet of me had scarves from my needles: coworkers, friends, family, hell, even my cats had 3 a piece to line their kitty beds for a while. Sure, I have three very basic sweaters to my name and a fair amount of dish cloths, but you only need some many scarves, sweaters and dishcloths but you always need more socks.

I got hooked on socks in November 2006, when my crack dealer...opps, sorry, I mean a dear friend finally silenced my cries, "Socks are hard! I can't knit socks! It'll look like something my cats puked up!" She took me down to the LYS, selected two skeins of Cotton Fleece in Oriental Jade, marched over to the needles, shoved a set of Brittany Birch size 6 double points into my hands and got me buying it all before I knew what was happening. Before I knew it, I was whipping out 2k2p ribbing for the leg and nearly to the heel flap before I could protest. I had to go home before I could face the horror of turning the heel. I was calling her at 5 a.m. the next morning, [b]The pattern says turn, WHAT DOES TURN MEAN?!?!?[/b] You know you have a true friend that will walk you through a pattern before their first cup of coffee without killing you.

The first pair are not a testiment to the wonders of handknitted socks, but they are wearable and completely functionable. My friend rewarded my humble efforts that Christmas with a pair of double knit alpaca socks. If any she have given me these sooner, I would have been begging her to teach me. You always give you customers a free sample of the goods first to get them hooked.

Since then, there has be no turning back. Other than a brief break to whip out some Christmas scarves for a good friend who is willing to finance my yarn habit, it's been all socks. Last night, I cast on the second of the 13th pair. I've made socks of cotton, bamboo, wool, wool/silk, wool/nylon. I just discovered self-striping yarns. I was entertained for hours, running up to my family members, shoving the sock under the nose, exclaiming, "Look, it went from blue to teal! Isn't that so cool?" They were less than impressed. Family members never understand addictions, do they?

So far the wicked Second-Sock-Syndrome Fairy has not visited me. I leave offerings on her alter to keep her appease but I know she lurks in the wings ready to strike.