Wednesday December’s 20th, twenty seventeen
Early yesterday morning M and I made a quick trip to Espanola for some last minute Christmas shopping tweeking. The most disturbing time was at my check out. In our house there is always a kerfuffle related to finding string to sew up the turkey’s butt. There at CTC was a bin full of turkey trussing. I got two. At the cash the gal there held one in each hand and looked at me rather strangely. I suspect she was mentally comparing the cheesy mustachioed visage before her to the list of Canada’s 10 most wanted Turkey purloiners.
Suddenly she simply moved on. I guess she was content that I was not a Turkey terrorist. Then she asked “Did you find everything you were looking for”? Not to leave it alone I said “I was looking for the glue you use to glue letters cut from magazines together to make a note”. The staring began again.
Yesterday ML and I were invited out to an old fashioned Christmas wine and cheese. Our thanks to the hosts for their kind invitation and for all the work on food and beverages. In order to go out I had to dress up a tic in some winter clothing (long pants, shirt, and socks. It was much easier to find suitable pants and shirt, socks not so much. I eventually found a pair of black socks jammed into the back corner of one of my drawers. I don’t have a sock drawer. Why would I? There are never enough socks available to wear for their own storage unit.
Socks were invented by someone with cold feet. This frosty footed forgetive fellow wrapped his feet with animal skins tied together with string… I think I saw this on the Flintstones. The ancient Greeks wrapped their feet with matted animal hair called piloi. The earliest examples of socks at left, had the split toed design favoured by Geeks to wear their Croc flops in cooler climates. I’d try a pair of those, likely pretty good for tree climbing.
Christmas Eve, some folks hang a sock on their mantle (or wherever) hoping that Santa will:
- Put presents and Christmas goodies into their singular sock
- Add sufficient coal for their transgressions of the previous year
- Put the missing sock of the pair within
This Christmas celebratory sock fetish likely comes from the joy of simply finding one sock!!!
I hang a sock each time I look for a pair to wear. I find one of a pair I’d like to wear and set it aside and continue playing the sock basket hoping to win the sock lottery and find that matching partner. The standard for an outing like the Christmas wine and cheese is 100% matching. For other outings you can lower the standard some. If you are going out in your shit boots the standard might be 10%, you hope to have two socks that don’t have any holes colour not a factor. I think it’s time to allow some style in sock wear. Move on from the days when hours were taken to get the seam straight on those nylons from the past. Move the bar allowing that as long as each foot is encapsulated in a sock it is ok but not likely de riguere, notwithstanding sock snobs.
Part of the reason I sail in the Bahamas and Caribbean is to avoid the need to ever wear or have socks. Darning socks, hell lets Damn socks. more later