Norwegian Socks.
A few nights ago we thought of re-visiting our socks, taking stock of an important item of apparel. Most us go through life not paying too much attention to socks but with retirement comes the time and opportunity to take a closer look. It was a rather cold week-end evening, a bit boring on TV and we were not in the mood for yet another comedy show on TV. How much jolliness can the system stand?
As we were gathering socks Helvi asked me if I still remembered buying a pair of thick woolen Norwegian socks. I did remember; it was in 1993 during a stay in Holland. We had both gone to the Saturday market at a small place in Holland named Nijverdal. It was a bitterly cold day and as we sauntered through all the different stalls I stopped at a hot fish and chips stall and ordered deep fried freshly crumbed sole for both of us with Patat frites. (French fries) Of course, the left eyed Dover Sole is a delicacy that is now rare.
They, like so many other fish species have been over fished but back in 1993 they were freely available. Indeed, since that day I haven’t eaten a single sole. Of course in the southern hemisphere a true sole is not there and we compromise and make do with flounder instead…and the chips are not the same either but that’s life. After arrival in Australia we discovered people would put vinegar on chips. It was a bad omen. However, the nail in the coffin was tinned spaghetti on toast. Can you believe it? Yes, I can. Everything you can imagine is possible in Australia, even the things you can’t imagine.
What is the same though are those before mentioned Norwegian woolen socks. I asked Helvi to chuck the socks to me for closer inspection. Only a true lover of woolen socks knows what it is to put a hand inside the confines of the heel and swivel the socks around the hand seeking for possible wear and tear. I held them up to light, still perfect. Not even a single ray of light penetrating the sock. That’s Norwegian socks for you. They were expensive but what joy to wear and over so many years.
My first memories are about socks. During the war years of 1940-45 and at St Nicholas on the 5th of December, when the Dutch give their kids presents, the same here at Christmas time, we used to get a single sock hanging from the fire-place as a present. It was some years after when there was more money about that the sock would hold actual presents. Those first toddler memories are still telling me today that the single sock was the total present.
My mum told me she knitted them from wool unraveled from an old jumper or perhaps even old under-pants. I must have worn this single sock on alternative feet to get the warmth divided equally. Ever since those single sock years I hold socks with a deep and heartfelt reverence. I just don’t understand the mentality of people throwing socks out just because there is a hole in the heel. All you have to do is turn the socks around with the hole on top of the foot and presto, the hole doesn’t show.
The other alternative is to buy Norwegian socks.
Tags: Australia, Christmas, Holland, Norwegian Socks, St Nicholas
Posted in Gerard Oosterman |
Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle 
Gerard you should die of shame. Baked beans on toast would have to be the nadir of so-called cuisine. Chunder!
I had a marvellous air of Middle Eastern (?) socks with soft leather soles-purchased from an Op-shop. I nursed those damn things for years until the threads finally gave out.
The Norwegians call that sort of knitting, can’t spell it but sounds like loser kofter, meaning lice bag, or so I’m told.
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PS Looser kofta is the way I think it’s pronounced-NOT spelled.
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It sounds Turkish but I think it is a way of Norwegian knitwear being produced that is warm and indestructible.
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And the white bits are the lice. No kidding!
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Gerard, honestly where are your taste buds? The worst thing ever would be ‘Baked beans on toast.’ Chunder!
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Yes, we never ever had beans on toast. Revesby was not safe after dark when mum had done a large 2 gallon job of pea-soup with rook-worst.
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Oh, I so wish that I would still have the lovely HAND-KNITTED woollen socks, knitted by my dear mum and my darling mother-in law….is a little cry allowed on a public blog.. ?
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My current good pair is such a pair out of an opportunity shop. I would likely buy one and wear it on alternate feet to distribute the warmth. One would ergo fit each foot in alternate indifference to the other’s temporary inconvenience.
Nah, brah, leave Australia alone. I migrated to New Zealand with family and one of the children told me that a pizza in their school canteen is a base of toast with tinned spaghetti on top and melted cheese. Surely not, I said while the children cried. I found in shop warming ovens everywhere the same being sold to the people. Labelled PIZZA…
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hehehe
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You got to have lived. 🙂
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Last year I bought a pair of woollen socks at Barbecues Galore, they were twenty dollars then ,now twenty eight a pair. As I mainly only wear them ,I have to go and make the big investment… 🙂
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…and buy another pair, they might stop selling them, maybe I’ll buy TWO pairs….
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One would hardly credit that. Woollen socks at BBQs Galore! Who would ever think!
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Well, sandshoe, this is Southern Highlands, everybody is wearing high boots, and no doubt socks from BG; stock what sells….
My sister-in-law from Brisbane visited us here last Christmas time…she said : don’t people here wear summer gear. I suppose she did not see too many people in shorts and thongs 🙂
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A well dressed bunch by BBQs Galore lol… 🙂
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I have favourite socks too. Problem is when you find a great pair and then want to get another you discover they no longer stock them. Been my luck anyway.
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Country Road a case in point! Took their 100% shrinking wonders of socks off the market leaving me bereft and in pocket by $25.00 a pair!
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Of course one doesn’t know how good they might be until after taken home and worn. If one did, one would buy more than one pair in the beginning. But can’t risk buying multiple pairs of crap. This was one of my problems when finding school socks for my daughters who often complained about a lump in the sock – it was the seam actually but it was uncomfortable.
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Gawrh, a lump! Don’t you hate that!? A great big bit where the sock has been tied off right under the little toe, those are the worst!
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Yes Shoe – and it drove me nuts for a couple of years until I finally happened upon socks with no lumps (tie off, you are right). The socks weren’t cheap but in the end it had nothing to do with price or quality (I usually went for quality) – just stupid manufacturing method.
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