My father and I haven't always had the smoothest of relationships. As a small kid I have fond memories of crazy things we did together. Like our 6 o'clock walks. We lived near a fairly large green space, and dad would somehow manage to not only get himself up and going that early on a Saturday morning, but then drag an 8 year old out of bed too. We kept a field notebook and everything (I still have it too). For a lot of those years we were buddies and it was awesome.
But then my parents split up and dad moved out. And for a 12 year old with her life all planned out in front of her, that was the apex of uncool. After living the "Canadian dream" (3 kids, dog, and yes, even a minivan) the change in the family dynamic was unsettling to say the least. There was no way that I could really understand what was going on at the time, or even really say how I was feeling myself, other than I resented the complications to my perfectly planned out life. And nobody can wield the stinging sword of resentment with more accuracy and deadly force than a teenager. There were a few years there where we didn't talk
In the intervening 15 years since, dad and I have danced the awkward dance around each other of not really knowing what's going on inside the others head, but still wanting to try to figure things out. As I got older things got progressively easier. Maybe dad was mellowing, maybe I was. Maybe we both finally figured out that the other person was trying, but in their own way. Whatever it was, 10 years ago dad was there for us in a huge way and now we own a house directly because he was willing to take a risk on a couple of 20-year-olds who were dreaming big.
Life at university helped too. Lunch dates with dad were every few weeks or so, depending on midterms and assignments (writing for me, marking for him). And when my university life came crashing down around me, it was nice to have somebody on my side who not only knew me, but the system I was struggling through. That and Zac Brown and Dixie Chicks summer cottage sing-alongs.
It hasn't all been smooth sailing, but the older I get the more I come to understand that it's just that we are different people with different outlooks and different ways of doing/feeling/being. I am a bit carefree, passionate, liberal, and outspoken. Dad (and the whole side of that family really) are conservative, reserved, and staunch. Added layer of complexity, both sides of this are highly educated and extremely opinionated. Family dinners are sometimes intellectually fascinating. And others a matter of how long can I grin and bear it (and sometimes it's not long enough).
My family tends to chuckle when I say things like this, but I've grown up a lot over the years. And while many of the decisions I've made I would make the same again, I feel that now I might be better and handling them, especially when those decisions involve other people. I would still choose to walk myself down the aisle on my own at our wedding, even 5 years later. But now I realize that I was probably the only chance my father would have to walk with his daughter on her wedding day. And it makes me sad that he won't have that opportunity. I would have still chosen the same, but think that I could have talked it over better with him.
All of this to say, that while dad and I aren't buddies like we used to be, we aren't complete strangers anymore either. Our relationship is probably always going to be a work in progress - just like the Goldilocks socks he got for Christmas.
I hadn't knit anything for dad in a long time. There was a sweater a pile of years ago, but it was an early effort, and not one of my best. With Christmas rapidly approaching, there was no chance for another sweater, but socks should have worked.
Over the years I've developed a basic toe-up sock pattern that is pretty adjustable. Cast on XX (usually just less than half of the foot circumference). Inc 4 every other round until number for foot circumference reached, knit along for 30-60 rnds depending on length of foot desired, inc for gusset XX to double the number of stitches on the sole needles. Turn short row heel, s1, *K1,s1p to last, ssk last with gusset / s1, p across p2tog last with gusset. Race upwards towards cuff for 40 - 70 rnds, 10-20 rnds for cuff. Cast off.
Basically I can write a post-it note with a few numbers and I've got a sock pattern. For me, on 2.5 mm needles it would look like this:
CO 20 to 48 40rnd, 50 rnd, 10rnd, CO
So cast on 20, increase to 48 for the toe. Knit 40 rounds, increase for the gusset, turn the heel, knit 50 more rounds, then 10 rounds of cuff. Simple no?
So when I'm knitting socks of difference guages or with different needles, sometimes there are some adjustments to these numbers. And when I'm knitting with a different guage, with different needles, for someone I've never knit socks before ever, there tends to be a few more adjustments to numbers.
Dad's socks were too small, WAY too big, just a little bit too big, too short in the foot and too short in the leg. All at different times. By the time I had one sock that I liked I had already knit enough stitches to more than finish a pair if I had got it right the first time. My pattern notes look like this:
In the end I got it (on the far right of that mess). According to dad the sock (yes, singular) he received at Christmas was a perfect fit. The second was finished in time for the annual family gathering to celebrate my Grandfather's birthday on the 27th.
Just so I never forget, knitting for dad with 2.75 mm needles the final pattern for K2P1 ribbed socks: CO24 to 60, 45 rnd, 85 rnd, CO.
Like our relationship, these socks had some great moments (I absolutely LOVE the colours and the stripes are a fantastic size, just when you get bored with one colour, it changes!) and others where it was all I could do to not just throw up my hands and walk away. In the end though, it worked out. It gives me hope that our too close/too far relationship will level itself out too.
Love you Dad! Merry Christmas.
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