The sock basket
We go through a ton of laundry in this house. On a daily basis, the industrial-sized washer and dryer run three or four loads. The old laundry chute empties into a cupboard that overflows dirty laundry from the two floors above.
The socks get separated as socks do. So they come out of the dryer and go into the sock basket. At the top of the basket are the easy matches: the little socks of Lib's that have the rubberized size and brand labels on their underside; Henry's identifiable matches - gray heels and an orange label; Maddie's colorful boot hose. But below the surface rest the old socks. The tough matches. These are the various white and black socks that are just different enough that they require some work to match. The tub is big too. It must have some unmatched socks that go back two years. The task of matching socks is a momentous one that no one wants. It is emblematic of the hundreds of ugly tasks we all have encountered that are left unassigned and so undone. But the tasks are there. They sit in the otherwise clean surroundings, getting uglier as things around them get better.
Saturday night I tackled the basket. Two movies worth of work. Halfway through, Henry jumped in. In the end, we dispatched the matches to the appropriate rooms and dressers. That left at least one hundred unmatched socks. Those went to the trash. My thinking is that we have plenty of matched socks. I am starting fresh. It feels good. I slept well Saturday night.
Get a lot of sock clips and try to persuade everyone to use them. Even if no one else uses them, your own sock will always be together. You'll feel good and sleep well every night.
Reply to this
I don't even know what a sock clip is. I would need hundreds.
Reply to this
You disappoint me. A sock clip, as its name suggests, is a clip designed and manufactured for the purpose of clipping matching socks together, before putting them in the laundry, so you don't have to sort and match them after they're laundered. Along with beer, sock clips are proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.
If you need hundreds, then go ahead and buy them. They're cheap and last years. If your time is worth anything, they more than pay for themselves in a few days. What would Nicholas Bate say if he caught you thoughtlessly shooting down such a good idea on so flimsy an excuse? Don't you practice what you preach?
Reply to this
I offer no defense. I am what I am and there are parts that are complicated.
Reply to this
And these complicated parts somehow involve a deep need to sit indoors on a beautiful summer day sorting socks? Every time I ride my bike on the bike path past your house , I'll think of you sitting in there sorting your damn socks. I won't know whether to laugh or cry.
Reply to this
It was evening. I watched Enchanted April, on Michael Wade's recommendation, and Gran Torino for a third time. On a beautiful summer day, I am smoking cigars, mowing my yard or at the baseball park.
Reply to this
That's no excuse. You'll have to do it again, many times.
Reply to this
I chuckled while reading this post, but was very disappointed at the end. You 'trashed' the extra socks? They should have been donated to a homeless shelter or an organization that needs bags of rags for various reasons. At the very least, Goodwill would have known where to distribute them. Those socks will still be in a landfill decades after Henry's grandchildren have cleaned out their own sock baskets!
Reply to this
It was the thought of kids walking around with unmatched, worn socks that bothered me.
Reply to this
Understand and agree; yet those kids would most likely appreciate any socks at all over none. If I were your sister, I would suggest you go buy a few packages of new children's socks and donate them to the Salvation Army.
I haven't let Patrick off the hook yet for not recycling, you may be next!
Reply to this
Please don't ever come by on trash day.
Reply to this
Gold Toe Windsor (W for wool) over the calf. I have worn this Gold Toe style for 40 years. The sock has never changed so there is not matching to worry about. There are just some days you may wearing a six year old sock with a one year old sock.
Reply to this
But you still have to sort for color. Navy, black, and dark brown look a lot alike in indoor lighting.
Patrick, I was sure that you, being his mentor, would be the one to bring him over from the dark side of clipless socks.
He even sorts socks while watching Clint Eastwood movies, a delicate task for which every possible ounce of concentration is required. That's multi-tasking at its absolute worst.
I think we need to do an intervention, and soon.
Reply to this
Who would have thought that a post on socks would get me in trouble with Patrick's sister for failing to recycle and with David for my ignorance of clips. Patrick doesn't really care because he won't be wearing socks for a couple of months anyway.
Reply to this
It speaks well of the quality of your readership. We can't, in good conscience, let such shocking confessions go unanswered.
Reply to this