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Sunday, October 26, 2014

One sock recovered


Several weeks ago I put away my summer socks and brought out the winter socks. I have a sock affection like some people have a shoe affection (which I used to have). My socks have to be all cotton or all wool, and no elastic. None. Zero.

Wool socks are easy. I knit them. Cotton, extremely difficult to source. I spent a lot of time looking for the perfect cotton sock. Not too thick. No elastic. The brand I used to buy disappeared. That happens with bras, too. Good ones disappear in one fashion cycle, to be replaced by the newest version of feminine figure.

Why couldn't I find a nice, thin cotton sock, like the Buster Browns I remembered? Buster Browns! I tracked them down in a flash; they’re still available. In packs of six! That’s a marketing device. Weeks come in sevens, why not socks? I purchased two packs of six, each rather expensive. But, they were made in America, and I wanted cotton socks without elastic.

All went well the first year or two; my socks had a mate each week, the tops folded nicely and away to the closet. Even if I came up one sock short, I could find it in the underwear, or stuck to a shirt. But one day, I couldn't. It was nowhere. Eventually I blamed the cat, and stuck the lonely white sock to the back, just in case. In more than a year the mate has not come back.

The week I washed my cotton socks for the last time before putting them up for winter, one was missing. This time a beige sock. After shaking down the laundry I moved out every piece of furniture in the bedroom, the better to look under. And clean, while I was there.

No sock. I retraced steps, scoured the laundry room, no sock. The beige single joined the white single several weeks ago.

As soon as I walked into the laundry room today, I saw it. The beige sock, crumpled against the wall. I cannot blame the cat; he won’t go into the basement.

My sister had a complex theory once, that missing socks hitched a ride with the towels, and once in the towel drawer made for the black hole vortex at the back, anxious to join the universe of missing objects. I was about to give socks that much credit. That is, until the beige sock lay crumpled on the floor. Could it have been spit back?


34 comments:

  1. Wait, Buster Browns are still around?? The shoes too? I might get a pair of shoes, even if I never wear them. They and cowboy boots were my only shoes until I was 10.
    I buy the same brand cotton socks, same color (black)....I don't worry about matching socks.

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    1. Buster Brown and his dog, Tige. Buster Brown's were my mother's choice of children's footwear. I was in eighth grade before I could graduate to saddle shoes.

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  2. I have several orphans in my sock drawer. I don' think the mystery will ever be explained.

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  3. Maybe the beige sock was formerly white. It snuck in with the dark wash.

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  4. The mystery of missing socks continues. Mine never seem to reappear.

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  5. I think someone could make a fortune if they figured out what exactly happened to lost socks. I know what you mean when they stop making something you like. They've done that with jeans over the years that I felt comfortable in.

    betty

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  6. Socks are an important part of living -- so I can understand your desire to wear what your feet like. I did not know that Buster Brown still makes socks -- I can't stand the tight elastic in most socks they sell today. Thanks for the mention of Buster Browns -- I am going to find them online hopefully -- barbara

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  7. I don't think I've seen pure cotton socks in a long, long while, everything here is cotton blend or wool blend. I haven't actively searched for pure cotton, so I suppose they're out there, I just don't see them. I hope your missing sock turns up. I like the idea of a six pair pack, but agree a seven pack would be better. Here we get two packs, three packs and four packs, so when I find what I like I buy four two-pair packs.

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  8. I was about to suggest that when the socks get pulled into the vortex, they get spit out in someone else's laundry room, but then I realized that no one gains socks - we all lose them. Now, washcloths are a different matter. I gained one once. How it came to be in our house is still unclear. Is anyone here missing a washcloth?

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  9. I get freaked out when something like that happens. I was recently in the loft looking for a bag of Halloween decorations. I simply could not find them. A few days later, I went up there for something else. The first thing I saw was the bag of decorations. It was a spooky sensation.

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  10. The thing is, Joanne, the white sock is still missing. Where are the Sock Police when you need them? My grandson fills socks with leggo so he can carry them around in his pockets -- just a suggestion!

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  11. Ever since I started buying Smart Wool socks, I put them in a separate mesh laundry bag. It works and helps me to not put them in the dryer.

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  12. when I was a child my frugal mother used to knit my summer socks from crochet cotton. Marked me out a bit, particularly as they were in pastel shades instead of school regulation beige or everyone else's sparkling white... but they were pure cotton!

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  13. My Dad's theory is that missing socks breed,their babies are coat hangers.
    Jane x

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  14. Odd socks, tell me about it Joanne. Mine never turn up and I have an odd assortment in my sock drawer. Eventually, when I can't stand it any longer, I clean out the drawer and throw the odd ones away.

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  15. Hari OM
    Yup, it's a Halloween story.... but congrats on the reunification of the pair! YAM xx

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  16. oh I would need to find those socks no matter what and find out why they are missing, I have a sock story in the opposite direction. I must remember to tell it this week.

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  17. It is one of the mysteries of the universe. I am looking forward to the day we eventually move out of this house...I'm sure all the socks will be found at that time.

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  18. I once found a lost sock stuck to an off-season shirt (which had been boxed up for six months), so your prodigal sock may yet return.

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  19. Joanne, I recently listened to 3 women at a knit shop talking about the difficulty of knitting socks. Apparently it isn't easy. One was saying that if you learned to knit by knitting socks, you'd have no difficulty with anything else. But one also said that knitting socks for some reason was addictive... (I don't know since although I do knit a bit, have never tried to do socks).

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  20. perhaps there is still hope for the missing white one.

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  21. I simply assume my washing machine is eating them.

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  22. So you are a sock aficionado? I wonder if I should investigate your sister's theory of a universe of missing objects. Has she published this theory yet? There could be grant money from the government.

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    1. She wrote a letter to Scientific American explaining it. They published it in the next issue. That was probably fourty years ago.

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    2. FYI - I gave a shout out to this post on my blog today

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  23. You are well-organized. Here one or two socks go missing with each laundry. Single socks are put in a basket and a few times a year, the basket is taken out and the socks that can be matched are matched. Those that remain single for several months are eventually demoted to cleaning rag status.

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  24. For years I bought all my socks the same colour now I don't care I often wear odd socks when not anywhere posh, most people just put it down to me being a crazy old lady.
    Merle..........

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  25. Where did you find the Buster Browns? I think they're exactly what I need because I'm very unhappy with my socks at the moment. I might divorce them.

    Love,
    Janie

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  27. The secret life of socks--that stories they could tell if they ever wished to share. Love and miss Buster Browns.

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  28. Dear Joanne, like you, I really enjoy good socks--colorful and warm, comfortable and not given to rubbing my toes and leaving corns. Thank you so much for mentioning "Buster Browns" as I'd forgotten. So now I'll go on line and see if I can find them. Peace.

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