Sock it to me, Baby

I didn't know Bill was going to Costco the other day, but when the three pair of Wigwam non-itch women's socks were sitting on a giant Cheerios box in the kitchen, I had a pretty good clue.

I also realized Bill had been listening when I'd announced a day or so before that the next time it rained, I'm gonna cover the living room carpet with socks.

Then, I'll play Concentration and try to match up some pairs.

Well, it looks like today could be the day. The western mountains are getting socked in (no pun, of course but fun), and we're supposed to have a cool, rainy day. So, I've definitely got a project.

This morning Bill asked me if I'd worn my new Wigwams while riding Lily yesterday.

"Nope," I said, "they're too thick for my Western boots." That's what kinda what started the whole sock assault idea anyway. I was looking for stuff Willie might want to use when he starts teaching next week, and while doing so, I found a big plastic grocery bag stuffed full of socks. Some looked familiar. On closer inspection, I realized they were pre-Lovestead socks.

I hadn't seen these socks since three years ago when the bag got stuffed in an upstairs closet upon our move here. I laid 'em out on the bed and actually found a skinny purple pair that would work well for sliding my big feet into my boots. And, that's when I also told Bill about my plans to temporarily recarpet our living room with my sock supply in hopes of finding another pair.

Since our move to the Lovestead, both of my drawers in the bathroom are stuffed full of socks and underwear. Plus, there's a plastic container in the shelving area stuffed full of socks and shoes.

Still, I keep going to the store to buy socks so I'll have a pair or two that match. My most recent purchase was at Wal Mart where I found really skinny black, blue and brown socks, which fit in my Western boots and which look nice in dress shoes----only a dollar a pair.

My strategy for buying socks these days is to buy a bunch of pairs of the same color. I do that because past purchases of variety packs works out for only a couple of weeks. By then, half of the pair has gone to the great and illusive sock-hiding place in parts unknown to my eyes.

A lifetime of wearing and losing socks, and I still have no idea where all those singles go to spend out their days after fools like me buy them, bring them home, wear them once, wash them and lose them.

I don't know if these socks don't like their new homes or if they'd just like to take advantage of finally being separated from their mate with whom they've spent all that time on store display racks glued together with labels and plastic hooks. Maybe they see these after-purchase, in-home liberations as an opportunity to strike out for themselves with a goal of supreme independence.

What I do know, however, is that their abandoned mates do like it here. Some even stick around long enough to get holes in the toes and heels and get stuffed in a drawer like sardines or maybe even fall behind the draw, tumbling on down to the floor to live in the nether world beneath the drawers until someone accidentally discovers them.

Hundreds, however, just plain disappear from the face of any earth I know.

Still, I hold out hope that maybe they've just accidentally gotten themselves misplaced and are crying out for rainy days when the owner of those big feet will finally search for them, find them and once again put them to use so that they can travel the world wherever she happens to walk and live out their lives inside shoes, washing machines, dryers and drawers.

So, today, as it rains, I'll bring out the socks. I'll cover the floor. I'll play my own game of "Sock Concentration," maybe I'll create a few reunions of long-lost mates, and maybe Bill won't have to go to Costco for a while to pick up a few more pair of Wigwams, and I can leave the skinny dollar socks on the Wal Mart racks to hang there, waiting for their opportunity for freedom in someone else's home.

Yup, it's nice to have a rainy day so I can sock it to me. I'll be happy to report my findings.