Recently I decided that as I don’t knit Steve a great deal, on account of he’s a bloke and thus a) larger then me and b) has more conservative taste in yarns and textures, that I would knit him some socks.

In secret, I sent off for relatively dull yarn. It’s mainly dark green with small flecks of primary colours in. Let’s face it, I couldn’t help myself. It was actually bought with the proceeds from the sale of inherited yarn, so strictly speaking, mum provided the yarn (thanks, mum).

I found an unadventurous, non-lacy pattern on Ravelry, the fit well socks (rav link) and cast on while on the train. In secret. On 27th January.

In spite of my complete lack of any discretion usually, I managed to keep these a secret. I grafted the second toe and sewed in the ends while taking a break from doing the accounts and trying to watch “My Big Fat Gyspy Wedding” on 4oD (and failing dismally I might add – screen kept going black) while Steve was on his way home from a day at Alton Towers with the children.

He was pleased and touched when I handed them over, and put them on straight away.

A couple of days later he mentioned that the yellow flecks kept catching his eye and making him think there was a hole in the socks. Which was quite distressing each time it happened.

A couple of days after that, he said that these are now his Best Socks. He didn’t previously differentiate between his socks. Steve’s sock drawer now has a hierarchy.

Could I ever hope for a better compliment?