My other pair of hand knitted socks haven't developed a single hole, and I've had them for much longer. They're a slightly larger fit so perhaps they rub less, and they're also a different type of wool, which I suppose might be stronger.
Well, no use getting grumpy about it - instead I got out the darning needle and some purple wool (probably in the same place I left it after my last darning experience). I don't have a darning mushroom (and if I did, I imagine it would be packed away in a box by now anyway) so I used the closest thing I had to hand that was vaguely the right shape - an old cricket ball.
While I was on a mending mission, I sewed up the pocket on my coat, which I'd caught on a trolley in a shop a few weeks before.
I like a bit of mending. It make me feel useful and practical - two things which I like very much. It also gives me a feeling of creativity, without actually having to create anything. Peter said the other day that a lot of his jackets are missing buttons, and while I don't consider it my job to sew them back on, I think once we move into our new house, we might have a joint button-sewing evening in front of the fire one night.
Speaking of the new house... it's now nearly eleven weeks since we had our offer accepted. It feels like twenty years, and also feels like we will never move. I'm informed this week will bring some news... but I confess I'm not holding my breath. This is the first time I've either bought or sold a house - we are doing both simultaneously, and have vowed never to do either again.
In the meantime, here's a picture of one of our fields (fingers crossed). A cheery farmer came bouncing down the drive on a tractor looking for his cows just after I took this. The gates are all open at the minute, so I can only assume they just wandered in, thinking the grass was greener over here.