My Sock

I had so wanted to copy the sweet domestic homeschool-homekeeping blogs I admire when I started this one. Thus our subtitle, “domestic adventures and homeschool miracles” — I had to relate the theme to the title somehow, though Red Sea School is really a name selected somewhat randomly by Violet shortly after she turned 6, to describe the school she was going to run for the neighborhood children. She had just read the story of the Red Sea in a Bible storybook for children, so I assume that was her motivation. And then it stuck, as things we don’t think through often do.

“Domestic adventure” describes our home life kind of the way “America’s Moving Adventure” describes moving across country with a U-haul. As I once said to my dad, how many people must look at that slogan during their move and mutter it bitterly?

I am not a tidy person — my mom has told me that I will need to plan for household help because I will just not do it myself. Which is true — I fill up my life with too much stuff, and though I continue to manage time better, as I approach 40 all evidence is that however I re-prioritize, tidying and decluttering are going to stay near the bottom of the list.

As my therapist neatly summed it up: I tend to excel at things that are invisible to most people, and my weaknesses tend to be very visible. I can cook — I just can’t get the dining room table cleared off enough to have anyone over. I am a bright person, if I do say so myself, but my work is for a narrow audience, and I myself am mostly anonymous in the process. I get rather few questions about the German Enlightenment in my social life, many more opportunities to apologize for the state of the living room.

Just yesterday I decluttered my Google reader of several blogs that are quite nice, very upbeat, and — for me — slightly demoralizing. I need to focus more on being the best me — forgive the Oprah-ism. To analogize: more Rhoda, less Mary; more Breakfast Club Ally Sheedy, less Breakfast Club Molly Ringwald; more Laverne, less Shirley; more Rizzo, less Sandy. More Derfwad, less . . . of that other stuff.

Still, and unsurprisingly, my domestic and crafty moments give me lots of little thrills, so I can’t let go of them entirely. So I persist, from time to time, in indulging my would-be crafty-person homemaker side. Like now.

Here’s my sock, from the Ann Budd simple sock book, the chevron lace pattern. At the suggestion of my LYS (oh, you know, that means Local Yarn Store if you are hip to the new knitter vocab) I’m doing heels and toes in a complementary color to be sure that I have enough yarn. “Complementary” here means something like “lively fun contrast” — I didn’t want to make my first pair of adult socks — and perhaps only the 2nd thing I’ve knit for myself, since the purse — too serious.

purple sock

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6 Comments

Filed under Knitting and crafting, Oh Mother, Remedial Domesticity

6 responses to “My Sock

  1. I would actually really like to know about the German Enlightenment – seriously. I wish I knew more people in my life who had interesting information like that and were willing to share it. I’d love to come over and sit at your scrumptiously cluttered table, find a place for my teacup somewhere, and listen to you talk about the invisible wonders in your mind.

  2. It’s too bad we are not neighbors-one visit to my house, one look at my dining room table, one look at my kitchen floor…and you would feel so much better about yourself. Perhaps outdoor BBQs are more your speed-oh wait, that means you have to garden.

  3. I agree with Mrs. G. except about the gardening part. It is perfectly possible to barbecue and eat outdoors on a patio with weeds growing between the stones. I’ve tried it. And if you give them nice wine (or beer, or a cocktail, or a G&T), your guests won’t even comment. Or maybe you need the right kind of friends.

    As for the sock, it looks great. And I would have said complementary meant that it picked up that fleck of green from the multi-coloured purple part to highlight it.

    Housework is way overrated. And the stuff will get cleared off the table if you invite people over because you’ll need to space when you set the table. Maybe you just pile it on another surface temporarily and then put it back the next morning, but so what. Anyone that comes for dinner and complains about the state of your living room should learn better manners.

  4. Your post triggered a lot of different thoughts about my own inner self.

    I like your description of yourself. We can’t be everything and it is a process to accept yourself the way you are.

    I also meant to tell you that I like seeing and hearing about Victoria. She is a cutie.

  5. So much more than a sock post. I almost dismissed it as I’ve failed again and again at knitting.

    I have very limited intellectual abilitiy but I value it in others. I wish that I could feel secure from possessing intellect rather than a clean house. And honestly at the moment I have neither a clean house nor happy children. Knowledge is yours to keep no matter what the circumstances in life. I would say you are lucky.

    As for winnowing blogs, I do it all the time when I am down and then find myself adding them again once I feel better. You can almost tell the state of my home life by the number of blogs in my google reader. How silly is that.

    I hope you are feeling more upbeat today.

  6. “I get rather few questions about the German Enlightenment in my social life, many more opportunities to apologize for the state of the living room.”

    *grin* I love it. This weekend I got to have a conversation about Egils Saga, the Prose Edda and Snorri Sturluson with a woman who is writing a book about the wife of Eric the Red. It was cool to talk about this random topic I was obsessed with in my teen years.

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