Dad-Take One with help from the FLITGIRL
" I neither knit, nor sew
I cannot tie a bow,but
I love my toastie toe socks.”
In the spirit of full disclosure, I must start by stating, that I am not Theresa, I am merely her Dad.
Terri, as she is known to her family and grammar school through high school friends, or Theresa, as she is known to her Kindergarten and post high school friends, is currently in Copenhagen or Hamburg, depending upon the time of your reading this. (Her name preference at a demarcating stage of her life actually helps us out quite a bit, as we can tell the chronological dating of her relationships by how someone addresses her.)
She is buying a car in Sweden, factory direct, much akin to visiting the Alpaca that contributed to her hat. As you can tell from her itinerary, that includes stops in New Jersey, Denmark, Germany, Sweden, the Netherlands and Scotland. The journey is as important as the destination.
Since I am not a creator of hand-crafted woolens, but a fortunate recipient, my perspective is different from that of most of this blog’s readers.
The love, beauty, time, tenderness and thought that she weaves into each of her beautiful and unique works of art are relived each time I put on one of my socks (I own 2 pair, #53 and #91). I faithfully wear each pair once a week. Each week at least twice, I am reminded that I am loved by someone in Rhode Island. At first, I was afraid to wear them… worried about wearing them out, staining them, sweating in them…but then, I remembered the Neruda ode that Terri enclosed with my first pair:
..beauty is beauty twice over
and good things are doubly good
when you are talking about a pair of
wool socks in the dead of winter.”