There are a few things you should probably know about me. First, I often take my socks on field trips to things like yarn store events or TNNA. When I take them on these field trips, I like them to look their best, so I often take them on sock blockers. Second, despite being a tiny bit nuts about wanting my house to be clean, I don’t really care all that much about my car. It’s not that it’s dirty exactly. It’s just that things tend to migrate to the trunk and stay there. Like that bocce ball set I got last year and that carpet scrap I meant to put under the cats’ litter boxes.
These two things, perhaps, explain what happened today. I was in the grocery store parking lot trying to make room in my trunk for the groceries. One of the things I was shifting around was my sock blockers (not because they’re bulky, but because they’re a bit fragile). The two gentleman getting out of the car next to me seemed to find them very perplexing. One asked what they were. Now I’ve explained before that I often find it helpful to answer exactly the question asked, not the question left unsaid. With this in mind, I said ‘sock blockers.’ And what, they inquired, might sock blockers be for? ‘For stretching out socks,’ I said. This did not seem to help matters. They asked why one might want to do such a thing. ‘To make socks look pretty’ I explained. This seemed to confirm their growing suspicion that I was nuts-o. They shot each other a concerned look (I think they were considering moving their car farther away from mine) and scurried off into the store.
I’ve got to stop talking to strangers. I seem to alarm them.
If you want to see something from someone who would totally understand having a trunk full of sock blockers, swing by Annie Modesitt’s blog. She’s got a little review of the book and has a copy to give away. I’m going to go consider cleaning out my car.