I knit these socks in the Chicago airport back in 2006 out of Koigu.
I repaired them once back in March 2009.
This time the hole wasn't a snagged broken thread but a spot completely worn through. Since this is the first sock loss since March 2010 I decided to let them go instead of fixing them.
In doing this I realized how memories are tied up in knits. I remember how it felt sitting in the airport every time I pulled them out to put them on. Also, that March is a bad month for me and socks. Finally, hand knit sock last near forever. My first pair of socks are 11 1/2 years old and they don't look a day over 9 1/2.