Denial - Acceptance

Do you ever feel like if you just don't talk about something maybe it isn't really true? I thought that maybe if I didn't tell any knitters about this, I would find out that it had only been a dream. In fact, the day I discovered the, um, problem, I didn't say anything to anyone because maybe I had still been asleep that morning. But, no. No matter how much I don't share, my socks still have MASSIVE FREAKING HOLES IN THEM!

I have no idea what happened, but after giving these socks a nice Eucalan bath, this is what I found the next morning:

Yup a big hole at the top of the ankle and another big hole in the foot and a third (trust me, 3 photos would have been too traumatic for me) at the toe.

This mysterious wool-eating virus seems to only have affected one sock. The other seems to be entirely whole. Again, I have NO IDEA WHAT HAPPENED. I know it isn't the yarn, because after all, it Rocks, and I know its not the wool wash, because it is supposed to be some of the best stuff out there. The machine didn't do it because these were washed in the sink. So that leaves me with the only two plausible alternatives: 1) moth or 2) Jenny.

See, the thing is (and I am not proud of this), the socks where on the floor next to the laundry baskets for...a bit of time. This left them fully exposed to whatever may happen across them and find them interesting. Now, normally we don't see all that many wool eaters in these parts, but there has been a random moth or two around lately since the windows have been open quite a bit. I hadn't paid them too much attention because in my mind, my wool is safe behind a nice thick layer of plastic. I didn't think about the socks.

But then we also have the plush crazed tendencies of that little pooper we share our home with. Jenny is a very good dog. She leaves things alone and doesn't bother anything. So you let your guard down and accidentally leave the pantry door open (some cracker consumption may have taken place) or accidentally forget to move the pen from the end table next to the couch (my mom-in-law can attest to the damage one doggie can do to a leather sofa with just one pen). It's like she is saving up all her "bad dog" for just the right moment...and then she strikes.

Anyway, sometimes she also messes with the clothes. It's not usually a problem because we generally keep things off the floor. But, I let my guard down. And considering that these were dirty socks, Jenny is a doggie, and doggies are gross, we can't rule her out of the equation. I guess I will never know what happened to these poor traumatized socks. But given the fact that they have been worn ONE time, these socks will be mended, somehow. I haven't given up on them yet.