I didn't expect I'd write about my feet and my physical conditions as much as I have, in explaining about my 730 things; I thought it would be more on philosophy of life and the difficulty of sticking to the path. But the fact of the matter is that the combination of ageing and health struggles have been the driver of many of my vacillations, and particularly of changes in my wardrobe. Since clothing is most of what I own, I guess that's why I end up writing about matters to do with my body. I must admit the change from feeling embarrassed and ashamed about my constant dilettante changes of direction, to seeing myself as a poor disadvantaged being struggling against infirmity, cheers me up immensely.
Today's items to give away are two pairs of very special socks.
They're extremely soft (non-scratchy), dense and warm. They stop the wind. I wore them out walking in the winter with my Birkenstock lightweight EVA beach sandals, and it was like having shoes on my feet, even on days when the north-east wind was blowing that goes straight through the tiny spaces integral to knitting in my other socks.
They're made of yak wool, and yaks live in Tibet. Hilaire Belloc wrote a wonderful poem about yaks — do you know it?
As a friend to the children, commend me the Yak;
You will find it exactly the thing.
It will carry and fetch, you can ride on its back
Or lead it about with a string.
The Tartar who dwells on the plains of Thibet
(A desolate region of snow)
Has for centuries made it a nursery pet,
And surely the Tartar should know!
So ask your Papa where the Yak may be got,
And if he is awfully rich
He will buy you the creature — or else he will not.
(I cannot be positive which.)
I love that poem, and I loved my yak socks (which were very expensive even though I got them greatly reduced in the sale).
But once again my hyper mobility issues fought back against other concerns. My feet don't resist anything. Without socks, even going down to the bottom of the garden and back I can get blisters from shoes worn without socks; and shoes that are at all tight are out of the question — even wearing tights is painful. In the bit of my feet that's the equivalent of the knuckles in hands, the joints all get pushed and scrunched together and hurt. I cannot "wear shoes in" as they say — the shoes stay exactly the same and just make bruises under my toe nails and blisters on my skin. All my shoes have to be soft and loose. I had some superb Vivobarefoot shoes in soft, floppy suede — light as a feather and really supple — and then last year I got this bad ankle problem, which made it very painful to walk anywhere without arch supports, so I transitioned to the Birkis.
I thought the yak socks would be perfect. They are so soft and warm. There are no lumpy seams (yes, I really am like the princess and the pea, and the canary in the mine, all rolled into one) and the ribbing round the tops doesn't dig in to one's leg. And they mould to one's feet like a glove — which was the problem. They very gently asserted pressure all round my foot, which my foot is incapable of resisting so the socks made my feet kind of . . . tired? achey? Something like that.
This last year my body has been such a battlefield of pain I really can't be doing with intentionally cladding it in anything whatsoever likely to cause further discomfort. So sadly the yak socks had to go. They cost such a lot of money and I was really grateful and relieved that someone in my family was keen to have them.
2 comments:
Obviously I can't know whether these socks will work for you, but you can get UK army issue black socks (not the other colours, they're made differently) on sites such as eBay, which feel so comfortable and so warm. They are part wool and very long.
Don't know if these would help.
John
Oh, thank you, John! I'll have a look at those. I am very, very blessed that Alice (one of the people in our household) knits us socks. I have three pairs she knitted for me — one recent, two darned and darned over and again — and she's just now working on a fourth pair for me. She finished the first one, gave it to me to try on, and it came up just a little small, so she's pulled it back and started again. What a saint, eh?
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