At last! Success!

Dear Toe Up Socks,

There was a time, not so long ago, that I hated you. I loathed you with the white hot passion of a thousand suns. I hated you with the fervor usually reserved for moths and the current presidential administration.

When I stuffed you in your yarntainer and threw you across the room after two weeks and several thousand attempts to make you work, it was with the intention of never, ever setting my poor blighted eyes upon you again.

I despised you for your complicated process, the twitch in my eye, the hot, seething rage, and my complete and utter inability to wrap my head (har har) around your stupid short rows of which we will speak no more.

However. Now, you are my friend. I love your Easy Toe. Your Easy Toe that made sense to me, even at midnight. I love your simplicity and straightforwardness and how I can now totally see myself using you over and over.

I don't know why, after casting on and ripping and ripping and casting on ad nauseaum that it didn't occur to me to consider your possible majesty. Instead I let myself be led astray by the words of others that those dratted toes that shall not be named were better. I was so very wrong. Their vileness even tainted the needles with which I worked, and thus you got fresh, happy new needles with which to work.

Easy Toe -- You Complete Me.

Short Row Toe -- You Are Dead To Me.