Years ago, when I was a very new sock knitter - and very new knitter in general - I knit Nancy Bush's Anniversary Socks from Favorite Socks. It was during an intensive monthlong EMT class, and I knit them during early morning lectures to keep myself focused when coffee wasn't quite enough. I remember thinking while I was knitting them that they were the most beautiful, delicate thing I had ever made, and I was secretly very proud every time I stopped at the end of a round to look at them.
Even in the years since then, I've never forgotten that feeling: the magic of making fabric on tiny needles with tiny yarn; those little holes and twists producing something even more lovely than the sum of their parts. And even though I moved on to different projects and my sock knitting lessened for several years, I still thought of those socks sometimes. And then thinking of them turned into a plan to knit them again. And then I picked out a yarn from my stash that I thought would work.
And then I waited.
So the other day, I finished my Waving Lace socks and immediately wanted to knit another sock, so I went upstairs and grabbed that Ella Rae Lace Merino that I made those grand plans for, and I cast on.
And everything about it was just as lovely as I remembered.