By: Blonde Two
I have a most excellent pair of Bridgdale long, merino walking socks. They are my favourite; so much so that I never wear them for walking.
No, these socks are sacrosanct, they live in my extra-special, orange clothes dry-bag (not orange clothes, orange bag), and they only come out when I am safely inside my tent and away from any nasty wetness.
I have discovered over the past winter, that long socks make most excellent bed-fellows. They seem engender an increased warmth factor, that goes beyond what you would expect from a extra few inches of knitting (I did once knit a sock). On top off that the ache in my left ankle (once broken, now mended) is also cured by my super-socks.
I don’t think Mr Blonde Two is overly enamoured with my new sock habit; I discovered last week that long socks are equally accommodating at home. Maybe it is the fact that I wear them with nothing else at all that he is objecting to. I think I look charming!