I'm quite fond of activities that involve a bit of special sockage. For example, if I was any better at hitting a small ball with a long stick then I'd take up golf for its line in sock design. Definitely. As it is I spent a bit of time recently sliding down snow on planks and I did enjoy the opportunity to encase my feet and lower legs in long thick warm socks. I've noticed that many sporting activities lay claim to their own special sockage and indeed it's not so long since trainers insisted on their own range of specific socks altogether.

When an angry man behind me at the football today shouted in frustration at the ref "He's got a hold of his f***ing shirt man, it's a foul!" I was surprised that my friend looked so confused. She's a proper fan after all and I was just the lightweight along for the New Year FA cup match outing companion. And even I know you're not supposed to drag on the opposition's shirts to get them off the ball in football.

"What's his socks got to do with it?" she asked me, "and how's that a foul?"

Me and my chap went to the gym the other day. Just for a quick swim and to sit in a jacuzzi so we were only in there for about an hour or so. When we re-met in the corridor outside the changing rooms on the way out he said to me 'You're never going to believe this; I've lost a sock.' And, sure enough, when he lifted his trouser legs one ankle was bare. 'I had two when I went in there and one has just disappeared,' he said in tones of complete bemusement. 'I looked everywhere.

Someone has alerted me to another grim point in the odd sock conundrum and it is this: how come it's never the odd ones that have holes in? Clearly it's not going to be because of an active throwing out policy, as anyone who throws out one of a pair simply because it's got a hole in would surely chuck the other one too? I imagine that's how such an orderly mind would work anyway, unless they kept the odd ones for Some Other Purpose, in which case they wouldn't be all mixed up in the sock drawer with the pairs would they?

Walking home from the pub I spotted it, lurking in the dark. Crumpled up so I thought it was a glove to start with there was something socky about it that caught my eye. I'm more used to odd socks in the domestic context so I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't know its purpose sitting there on the wall and wasn't sure if it would be alarmed to be put in an unknown odd sock bag. But perhaps it was making a bid for new happiness with a different partner and would be delighted. I stretched it out to its full sock length and left it displayed where it was.