Posted on May 16, 2004 at 8:22 pm

Every once in awhile on the Sockknitters list, someone will mention the merit of postal scales for rationing precious skeins of particularly dear sock yarn.  Say you have a 4 ounce skein of Mountain Colors: how is a knitter to know when the half-way point has been reached and the cuff or the toe should be finalized?(depending on direction you made the sok from, natch) .  There are many ingenious solutions to this problem like knitting a tube to divide it in half and adding cuffs and toes and afterthought heels later. However, this gadget of postal scale appeals to the materialist acquisitionist that I am, so I mentioned this to my husband, King of Vacuum Tubes and Ancient Hifi Gear. (pause for an aside)

Walter builds his own sound reproduction systems.  To call it a stereo would be a misrepresentation because some of them are in mono, and these days he’s working on a three speaker system with a subwoofer that’s bigger than most refrigerators.  He solders like I knit.  As often as possible.  One of the things that he’s constantly on the lookout for is old tube stuff, so if any of you have this stuff hanging around, maybe we can work out a Tubes for Yarn deal, like Kimberly’s Pez for Yarn program. 

Anyway, being on the prowl means that he’s always off to flea markets, yard sales, and Ham Radio Fests.  He tries to participate in the knitting thing as much as he can, but being a human furnace, he doesn’t really need the few sweaters I’ve made for him.  He likes the math part.  Gauge he gets.  So when I mentioned to him that I might want a postal scale for evenly dividing yarn between two socks, he brings me this home from the MIT Flea Market today:
It’s a chemist’s scale, accurate to three decimal points of a ounce.  I should be able to get that yarn allocation accurate to the centimeter.  Wow. 
I have to say that it wasn’t until I owned a chemist’s scale that I considered how much the names of sock yarn sound like they could just as easily be for street drugs.

Fortissima Disco.

No obvious jokes here about wool and addiction.  You can make some though, if you want.
My husband loves me. 
Maybe he’ll wear a pair of socks.