As I’ve been doing my purging, I’ve been fussing about the difficulty of the exercise on Facebook. At some point a little while back, I realized that in addition to my emotional attachments to books, I also seemed to be struggling with paring down my sock collection. Well, ok, “collection” is a strong word, implying a kind of intentional acquisition, when in actuality my sock drawers (yes, plural) filled more organically than intentionally. Still, when faced with discarding some of my socks, I found myself getting teary-eyed. “Oh,” I’d sniff sentimentally, “these were the socks I wore when hiking the Badlands of South Dakota.” (Then I sniffed physically, and into the waste bin they went. But not all my choices were that easy.)
In one of my sillier Facebook whine-fests, I asked people to supply me with arguments — in poem form — for ridding myself of excess socks. I got many good responses, but this one from my sister-in-law was my favorite. I asked if I could share it, and she graciously gave me permission. I give you…
One Sock, Two Sock, Red Sock, Blue Sock
By A Seuss Wanna-be (Kimberly Arlia)
One sock
Two sock
Red sock
Blue sock
Black sock
Blue sock
Old sock
New sock
This one has a little cat.
This one has a little bat.
Say! What a ton
But socks are fun!
Yes. Some are red. And some are blue.
Some are old. And some are new.
Some are worn.
And some are torn.
Some you outgrew.
And some Bodhi likes to chew.
Why are they
Worn and torn?
Outgrown and chewed?
HEAVENS KNOWS – your mother spews!
Some are thin,
And some are f a t.
Some are missing
Taken by a rat?
From there to here, from here to there,
Funny socks
Are everywhere.
You see them come.
You see them go.
But now you need
To shop no mo’
Pair them up.
Take a day!
Got a hole?
Throw away!
Organize, stow away!
Make it neat.
Socks are a treat,
For pretty feet!
For more on my sock trials and tribulations, visit my story on Medium: 12 Steps to Minimalism (alternately: The Sock Incident).
March 10, 2017 at 10:02 am
I smell and AWESOME photo book. Can you take photos of the socks and write about your journey of a 1,000 small steps? Please please please. then, you can keep the socks. Let the memory live. And, reduce multiple drawers to a small meaningful book, journal of where you’ve been and how it’s inspired your future! Do it. Then write a memo to me in the back for the idea. 🙂
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March 10, 2017 at 3:24 pm
I’m. Laughing. SO. HARD! I’m afraid many of the socks have already either been tossed or donated (if they didn’t smell), but I’ll see what I can do with the remaining…um…drawer-full. (Yeah, culling them hasn’t been a total success…)
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March 11, 2017 at 11:03 am
YAHOOOOO!!!!! Now I just have to remember – do not send Denise any more socks!! At least not right now…..
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March 11, 2017 at 11:04 am
Yahooooo!!! Now I just have to remember not to send Denise any new socks….at least for a little while!!
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