I'm sorry to have to report the death of a much-loved handknit -- my Little Monkey Foo Foo Monkey Socks.
On Sunday night, I was sitting at my Lendrum spinning when I noticed that my right foot felt a little cold. When I stopped treadling and looked at the bottom of my sock, I found this:
When I took off the other sock and examined it, I discovered it was pretty close to the same fate:
Upon even closer inspection, I found that there were weak spots about to give up the ghost on other parts of the sole of both socks and that the soles in general were very thin. So, as sorry as I am to say good-bye to these socks, I think it's time to darn them in the style of the Yarn Harlot -- i.e., say "Darn, darn, darn!" as I drop them into the trash.
There's no doubt these socks were well loved. I will always associate them with having my appendix out; when I couldn't bear to knit on them, I knew that something was really wrong. In the six years since they came off the needles, they've been worn at least once every two weeks or so during "sock season." They've noticeably faded, too, which tells me they were washed a lot. These socks have certainly done well by me.
As sad as it is to have to say good-bye to a favorite pair of socks, the good news is that I have plenty of sock yarn to replace them (even a fair amount of Sock That Rock, with which they were knit). And that's a good thing, because my sock mojo seems to have come back in a big way!