The Lost Sock
“Look what I found!” my housemate exclaimed in his throaty voice. He held up a single dark sock. Grinning at me, he added, “Here’s something you’ve been looking for since last year!”
“Oh, my goodness! Where in the world did you find it?”
“It was on my closet floor probably disguised under my black pants, that’s where.”
* * *
And there was the blue sock, dangling from his fingers.
Clearly, I’m not a style maven when it comes to outfits I wear to the gym. These socks, along with another beige pair, have been in my wardrobe for eons. I get attached to stuff like that. But two old pairs had gone missing. I wondered what happened to them.
- Did the drier eat them up?
- Did The Sock Stealer break into our house when I wasn’t looking?
- Did they get attached to a Velcro item in the washer or drier?
My predicament reminds me of parables of lost items in the Bible . . .
Parables of the lost sheep, the lost coin, the prodigal son
The Found Sock
My old dark blue sock has been united with its partner.
Maybe it’s happy now. Who can tell? At least nothing felonious happened to it.
In the meantime I’ve invested in six (yes 6) pairs of socks I can wear to Pilates or Power Pump. Friends who notice a haircut or a rare new outfit don’t seem to notice that I am wearing new socks.
Now I wonder what happened to the two (yes, 2!) pairs of glasses I lost during our house move two years.
I’ve written about missing items before in a post entitled “Button, button, who’s got the button?”
Also, I’ve blogged about The case of my two lost pairs of glasses which appears here.
I haven’t ~ yet!
How do you think my lost sock ended up on the floor under my husband’s black slacks?
Have you lost a sock, a coin, or a sheep? Anything else you lost recently . . . or long ago?
Has it come back to you? How?
Haha. That happens to all of us. I am a firm believer that washing machines definitely eat socks! Glad you found yours after all this time. Hope you find your glasses soon. 👍
You are definitely right about the washer eating socks. How else can we explain their vanishing?
Thanks for your hopeful comment about my glasses, but finding them is doubtful: We no longer live where I lost my them. (Heavy sigh!)
Maybe they are hiding in a box you haven’t unpacked yet!!! 😉
I don’t see any more boxes lying about. We moved 2 years ago.
Anyway, I have new glasses with transitions lenses, so no need for sunglasses in the Sunshine state. I’d probably lose them too! 🙂
I had those glasses too, but left them in dressing gown pocket when I went to Spa at Easter time. I went back the next day, but they said nobody had handed them in and probably went in industrial washing machine! 😢
In our house, we are always investigating the case of the missing sock. Funny thing, I wrote a blog post about it years ago and at least once a month, someone clicks on the photo of Derek’s sock. LOL! Seems like a common problem. 🙂
Probably more readers will click on your hilarious post as I’m linking it here: https://jillweatherholt.wordpress.com/2013/03/15/wheres-that-sock/
I like how you link missing socks and your writing time in this post. You mention that you write in longhand first and find it helpful as a way to stimulate the free flow of thoughts. Thanks for all of this, Jill.
Good morning, Marian! I lose socks all the time. When my younger daughter was in elementary school, she wore two different socks on purpose every day, which really solved the problem for her! 🙂
When I was teaching college, I lost one favorite earring. I’m convinced my car ate it.
Are your sure your cat, not the car, didn’t eat your earring? Ha!
I like your daughter’s solution to the missing sock saga. She’s brave and practical. Thanks, Merril!
It was before we had cats, and I was in the car! 🙂 She is brave.
Well, this swung many ways Marian … first of all I thought ‘cheep’? What sort of word is that with regard to the parables? Sheep maybe? Thank you for putting up the parables so delightfully told and illustrated.
I’m not going to look up the word ‘felonius’ to see if such a word exists. If it doesn’t, then now it does. Much like the socks that have lost their existence.
Who knows where socks go to … there has to be a sock heaven somewhere where their missing mate will be found.
I can’t think of anything lately that I’ve lost. Socks, glasses, keys regularly go ‘missing’. I hope I don’t lose my mind but for the moment that’s intact, although when I’ve hunted for eg keys and/or glasses only to find keys in my pocket or glasses on my head I do have to wonder if I’m losing it. My muse has gone a’wandering … I’m hoping this will return.
Sometimes socks, glasses, keys are simply mislaid – not actually lost. Like you, a few days ago I found glasses I’d been hunting for perched safely on my head.
Yes, the dictionary does list “felonious” as an actual word. But “cheep” belongs in a bird’s vocabulary, not a sheep’s. Thanks for noticing. I have a proofreader for every blog post, but even he didn’t pick up on this. I appreciate your being my wordsmith!
You’re not losing your mind, and I predict your muse will return, perhaps even in a better guise. I always look forward to your comments. Thanks for this one, Susan.
So glad your missing sock showed up! I think they take little holidays sometimes. I lost a lovely little angel candle snuffer my daughter made for me when we moved houses in Vancouver 19 years ago. I was upset as I love all the pottery my daughter has made for me and this piece was special. She made me another one and I forgot about the lost angel. Then, almost 4 years ago we moved to Spain. I couldn’t take everything I owned but I took all the pottery pieces my daughter had made for me. One of them was a lidded pot. Last year while dusting the pot, I opened it up and noticed crumbled up newspaper on the bottom. I took out the paper and guess what fell out – the missing angel. It had been in this pot for almost 18 years!! I now have two lovely angel candle snuffers. So you never know, those glasses may turn up at some point!!
Three cheers for dusting, a chore I could do without. But look what it did for you! Obviously, our minds don’t remember what our hands do sometimes . . . so much to think about, especially when we move.
The Angel of Loss items. has really blessed you! And how wonderful to have such a talented daughter, Darlene! It’s hard to believe you have been in Spain for nearly 4 years.
Okay, I’ll never say “Never” about those glasses – ha!
I´m not fond of dusting either. This sounds like I only dusted the pot once in 18 years. Yikes. I guess I just never looked inside it. I am indeed lucky to have a talented daughter who makes me lovely pottery pieces. Let me know if those glasses show up. xo
It seems that as I get older things are more easily lost. Yes, there are those socks, sometimes my cell phone, the scissors I need right this minute. The worst is an hour or two of sleep when I’m worried about something. I can lose thoughts when I enter a room, wondering why I’m there. In the long run losing things slows you down and gives you time to think, breathe, and laugh. That’s good for the soul!
I’ve been there with all of those frustrations. My solution to wondering why I walked into a room: I find if I stand there long enough, the reason comes to me. Besides, as you say, you can think, breathe, and laugh in the meantime. My grandma L. used to say when she paused, “I’m letting my soul catch up to my body.” Thanks, Joan.
Marian — I have a favorite writing pen. It’s the Zebra brand, F301 series, black ink, 0.7mm, fine point, made of durable stainless steel. I bought a two-pack before I flew to Chicago for the third-leg of my book tour. I returned home with one. Grrrrrr….
Someone grabbed it at a book signing, my guess. That person obviously thinks having your pen will endow her with special writing and publishing powers. Ha!
Marian — 😂😂😂
Lol, thanks for the entertaining read. I’ve been looking for my favourite shirt everywhere only to see my mother in law wearing it during a skype call. I left it in Jamaica and she’s taken it as her own.
So far, you have the prize for posting the funniest “lost” story. Have you confronted her with the evidence? Hahahaha!
Welcome to my blog, and thanks for leaving a humorous comment too, Andrew!
I’m thinking your sock found its way to your husband’s pants via the washing machine and dryer. I found a sock in a pair of leggings once. Socks have a way of being lost and found.
I love the parable of the prodigal son!
Yes, all that magnetic force in both machines probably helps small items bond with the larger. But I’ve lost more than I’ve found, and some not my own.
Yes, the parable of the prodigal son is powerful and full of hope. Thanks, L. Marie!
Marian, I lose things all the time, but I sort of let it go, thinking it will show up eventually, and it usually does. My hubby is the type that says, “seek and ye shall find” and he does! But he’s always looking for something!
But I did find something in your blog, a new word for me—felonious! Haven’t noticed felony used as an adjective before.
I wonder if you and your husband find things for each other. One of my readers thought it gets worse as we grow older; she’s probably right!
You are definitely a wordsmith, Elfrieda. I found felonious in my reading not long ago and somehow it seemed to fit here in a tongue-in-cheek way.
Oh, Marian! You do choose the most interesting subjects to joggle my mind! Yes, I’ve lost some things in the past and eventually found them. A red shirt that I loved but couldn’t find anywhere! When my granddaughter was helping me clean out my closet… there it was on the floor under a pile! I have a necklace missing right now that I’ve got to find. It was a gift and it’s got to be here somewhere! But I’ve searched and searched and can’t find it! Help!!!
As the parables suggest, the lost can be found. Prayers ascend for the lost necklace. Maybe your grand-daughter can be another pair of eyes to discover where your jewelry is hiding. Thanks, Anita, and let us know when you find it!
Fun post, Marian. I too have socks without their partners. Most recently, I lost my house key. A few weeks prior to the recent loss, I re-found the key at the post office where it was dropped. The problem was a key holder with a component where you can insert the key or quickly remove it. I had been careful, I thought to make sure that the key component was strongly inserted. But alas, I came home one day only to find I was locked out. I had given my second key to family to hold for me but they were away. I should have heeded the first warning. It is a crazy feeling to know that key is out there somewhere still hiding from me. Now my house key is
Where do the socks go? Maybe to join a sock revolution, protesting being constantly stepped on.
Thanks for your key story: How frustrating to be locked out of your house.
You have probably heard of St. Anthony of Lost Things, who became such because he couldn’t find a dictionary, so the story goes. In the end, he found it, which is what I hope for with your house key.
I love your last two lines . . . makes sense to me, Audrey!
I know you read my recent lost shoe story. But socks, I’ve given up trying to always mate things up after they come from the dryer (you may want to ask your proofer about that one, too.) 🙂 I LOVE your old favorite blue socks, even a bit chewed. The roots of frugality run deep. 🙂
Yes, the roots of frugality run deep, Melodie. I wonder if that trait is related to Attachment to Familiar Things. And yes, I remember reading and commenting on your shoe story. Readers, find it here: https://findingharmonyblog.com/2018/08/17/how-many-pairs-of-shoes-do-you-own/
I recently moved, to be with my husband. Only a hundred miles but it may as well be another planet. I had things thoughtfully packed [read organized by where they would go]. Dear hubby decided to repack many things in order “to make the load fit”. Yep, you guessed it. There are many things that are now MIA. No doubt in boxes that no longer match how they are labeled. I found my crochet hooks mixed in a bin for the kitchen. Surely you get my drift….
. . . and surely I ache for these mixups. Not much help on this end, except for a line from Burns, “The best laid scheme of mice and men gang aft agley.” Do return as you work to extract yourself from all the trappings.
I sound a little high pitched with that last sentence, but I am so sorry you are suffering through this. Moving itself is super stressful without the woes of unpacking. Ugh! You have sympathetic eyes and ears here though. Thanks for the comment, Ginger. And may you find everything you are looking for!
Socks are like family when we hold onto them for years. I do the same with mine. So I feel the same loss when one is missing.
Have I lost things over the years? Oh my gosh yes. But I read about a year ago about a way to find lost objects and soon after I had read that article I lost a beautiful aquamarine stone from a necklace that my mother had given me. I was devastated. I had been taking the necklace off carefully and afterwards when I clasped it to put it away in the jewelry box, realized the aquamarine stone was not on the necklace. I searched high and low, front to back, every single corner of my house. I spent an hour searching, maybe more, then remembered the article. I closed my eyes and thought of the object that was missing. I just put it out to the universe to help me find it. I meditated. Then suddenly I looked down on my body and noticed the pocket of my shirt.
Yes, the aquamarine stone was in the pocket of the shirt. 🤭💙
I’ve discovered that if I wait long enough, the missing mate always returns. Unfortunately, this only works for socks. 🙂
I don’t know, Janet. There’s a missing beige sock out in the universe, probably cavorting with a red one!
Socks as part of the family? I like that idea. So it’s just not frugality. 🙂
I like your idea of meditation, Pam. When we lose something valuable, our fearful minds flit in crazy directions, not helpful. I do something similar, “Dear God, you know where ____ is, so help me find it.” Your story of expecting some sort of divine help is heartening. Thanks for sharing! <3
Lol, I think we all have encountered the case of the missing sock. Although, I take pride in saying I never have until 6 months ago. lost one of hubby’s, turned the place upside down, several times over the months as the lonely mate sits still awaiting its mate in a drawer. I have definitely come to the conclusion the dryer did eat the sock. 🙂
Be thankful you’ve not experienced this drama before now. Somewhere behind that silvery cylinder lies the mate or so the story goes 🙂
I’ll be careful not to buy Tartan socks at a specialty shop in Scotland. Then I’d really regret losing the mate. Hand wash perhaps? Thanks, Debby!
Lol, I hear you Marian. 🙂
My son and daughter-in-law left two pair of soggy socks on the back porch–a white his and a tie-dyed hers. Good. Now they’ll have to come back and get them. It’s only 600 miles. Washed, neatly folded, waiting patiently for the next visit either here or there.
Have you heard the myth (or whatever) that people who leave things at your house are expressing a wish to return? It’s probably true in your case, but I think my grandkids are just absent-minded when they leave stuff here. They live very far away.
I love when your sons come to visit, Elaine; I can tell how much you mean to them!
I am still incredibly thankful my missing child came home. When he failed to come home from school, which he’s never done before, I drove all over the neighbourhood, ran through the school and school yard, talking to teachers, and eventually called the police in tears.
Wow, Jenn! And then what happened . . . ?
He wandered in. He went home with someone to finish a homework assignment. He sent a message to my iPad but it is in my room and I only use it at bedtime. We had a long chat with a lovely police officer and he had to endure tons of mama hugs. Scariest day of my life!
Kids! They have NO idea.
I remember the minutes of horror I felt “losing” sight of our son in a big Walmart. Scariest moments ever.
I’m glad your story had a happy ending, Jenn.
I love love your T shirt! And we’re always losing socks in this household, so we wear a lot of mismatched pairs.
Mismatched pairs may be a fashion statement soon, especially if driers keep eating socks. I’m glad you like my T shirt. The saying was actually a comment on the Mount St. Helens eruption in Washington state long ago. Thanks, Fiona!