Dated January 13, 2017

Wool socks are a personal favorite in winter. I prefer wearing cotton socks under wool socks around the house and even to bed.

The wool socks in the photo hold special significance because they were a gift from my mother. She found them brand new at a yard sale, and they were from L.L. Bean. They fit me perfectly, reaching all the way up to my knees!

I believe they are designed for knickers. These socks, paired with knickers, were a popular choice among some cross-country skiers during a certain period in the 1970s.

While I own other special wool socks, these remain my favorite. I was surprised to recently discover a hole in them. Unlike typical wear holes that develop on the heel, this was a large, unexplained hole on the top.

I had to mend the hole before it worsened. The picture shows my repair job.

It’s been decades since I last darned socks. However, darning socks was once a frequent activity for me, particularly between the ages of 18 and 21 when I was darning gray rag wool socks. I spent more time outside, wore out more socks, and had the time to mend them myself. Darning socks by the woodstove on cold winter nights was a cozy and enjoyable experience - or at least that’s how I remember it. Of course, I didn’t have the internet or a smartphone to distract me back then (I still don’t own a cell phone).

Marlene recently pointed out that my history with a needle and thread goes back much further than 18, extending to my earliest memories!

While sorting through old papers, she came across a letter my grandmother, Gertrude Philbrick, sent me in 1983.

My grandmother was born in Perham, Maine, in 1902. She was the granddaughter of Josephine Jordan.

As a potato farmer’s wife, my grandmother Philbrick lived to be 97. Like many farm women of her generation, she excelled at sewing. Later in life, she sewed and sold (and gave away) Teddy Bears and Raggedy Ann dolls.

Individuals who have been hardworking their entire lives often continue working in some capacity, even as they age, finding productive tasks to occupy their time for as long as possible. It’s an ingrained habit. Productivity is essential. My grandmother Philbrick exemplified this, and I believe I will too.

Returning to the story, Marlene handed me the letter from my grandmother in 1983. A particular excerpt caught my attention.

To ensure clarity, the letter reads:

“I feel I should stop doing the dolls and bears because my heart is giving me a warning with racing and fast pulsing when I feel tired. (I’m 81) I think of you when you were 3-1/2, I think. You’d see me with a needle and thread and you’d want to sew too. You’d do a pretty good job too. Even then, you had the talent for carpenter work. You helped Grampie with the barrels also?”

Indeed, I vividly recall assisting my grandfather, Percy Philbrick, with repairing potato barrels for neighboring farmers after his retirement from farming. I documented this experience in my Deliberate Agrarian Blogazine post from July 2010.

I firmly believe that engaging children in practical crafts is crucial for their development. My grandparents were raised in a time when teaching children useful manual skills from a young age was the norm.

My Grandmother Kimball also hailed from that hardworking farm culture of Northern Maine. She was a maker, always occupied with crafts. Whenever I visited her, she made sure to involve me in various projects.

I am grateful to my grandmother for handing me a needle and thread at the tender age of 3 1/2 and for sharing that memory in her letter. I am also grateful for wool socks. The list goes on.

As I age, my gratitude for such things continues to grow.

Do any of you recall when darning yarn was readily available in department stores across America? Here’s a nostalgic glimpse…