Once in a sewing class I took, a woman shared a post-Christmas story about cleaning up after her grown-up sons had gone home.
She always found the present she made them left behind.
This story was like a stab to my heart and to every mother and sewer who has wondered if the gift you made yourself was really what they wanted. I know I felt like that the year I made everyone a quillo.
Male relatives, sons, husbands, brother-in-laws, fathers, nephews and the rest of them can be just so difficult to buy gifts for. The trouble with most men is that despite the fact that they can be the plainest, or worst dressers, on the planet they are highly particular about how they do this, not to mention they usually like to buy exactly what they want for themselves.
Upgrading and treating are not things they understand or appreciate. A man my husband works with confessed that his wife had given him a pedicure for their anniversary (these guys work outside on an environmental engineering project) and I don't want to know the back story there. You would think she had suggested a sex change. And last Christmas I gave my spouse silk PJ bottoms (I thought because he likes silk on me he would like it on him) and he gave them back to me last month, unworn, because they make him nervous.
Woman are so much easier. Most woman have a huge list of things they would like to buy for themselves if they could and basically feel totally comfortable with whatever luxury they can get their hands on.
Which brings me to socks.
So far I have not knit myself socks but have been knitting them for the men around here. Husband, son, son-in-law, nephew. They actually like them, no they love them. All men wear socks, everyday most days, and apparently hand knit socks are comfortable. They actually prefer my socks. I have orders for more.
How about that?
Even my surfer youngest son who is usually totally indifferent to things material wore his, for three days straight actually until I caught him at it. He said they were his "lucky socks."
Pictured here is my 13 year old son, Nick, Nancy's son, in his lucky socks.
I actually think the lucky one is me.