I've decided that the Opal Southwestern socks are going to be part of my mother's birthday gift (along with the Feather and Fan socks, and a pair of green Opal Crocodiles that still have to be made). She admired the colors of the socks every time she saw me knitting on them over my Spring Break. And while I am pretty fond of the colors, and the socks are pretty, I don't think I am quite as wild about the colors as she was.

yes, this is a bit of a sacrifice for me, I do really like the socks. But I think she liked them more. Her feet are almost the same size as mine so I won't need to do any frogging and reknitting to give them to her.

And I was thinking - another reason why I knit is that I feel almost as if I am "protecting" a skill from extinction (yes, I know millions upon millions of other people knit too, but I feel like I'm doing a little part in saving some knowledge from oblivion). It's the same reason for which I read obscure books - I don't like the thought of anything good from human history being lost or forgotten, and it gives me a little charge to think that these things can live through me.