Well, the last two pair of Christmas assignment socks are done and with their owner. They are not much to look at, just plain old socks, but the Noro sock yarn brought up all kinds of feelings. The reminder of my grandmother's scratchy hand knit stockings was only the beginning. Deep down it brought up memories of utter desperation. Of being habitually cold. Of being so hungry that my tummy hurt. Of my mother crying because she couldn't provide enough food for me. Of being scared that she was going to die and leave me alone because then we mistook panic attacks for heart problems. So much misery for so many, and it is still going on throughout the world.
Despite all, knit on merrily.