My friend only ever wears toes socks. She doesn't own any other kind.

Amazing huh?

My son has got a proper girlfriend. By which I mean, of course, that he stays overnight at her house and she stays at ours. Thankfully they're of age so I can leave their business as their business but I just can't keep my concerns to myself on one front. It's the socks situation that's bothering me.

My friend and I were both guests at a 'golfing glamour' themed party recently. [Is anyone thinking of having a party with the theme of 'oxymorons' by the way because it could provide another outing for my costume]. As you can imagine argyle socks featured large in the room at this event with a fine selection of knee length socks in sight. No surprises there but a comment my friend made a week or so later frankly shocked me.

One of the good things about summer is bare feet. Bare feet equals no socks. And no socks equals not having to find pairs of the things. Plus you can get away with a greater amount of kookiness in summer so on the days when socks are needed a non pair can look quite fetching. Although not with sandals obviously. Sandals and socks equals a bad plan. However, here we are in autumn (again) and its associated foot joy of warm woolly socks (when you can find a pair that is), and tights.

I finally got time to properly tidy my room; including hoovering under the bed. What interested me was not that I found several odd socks lurking in the dust there - frankly I would have been surprised if I didn't find any socks - but that they represented all the members of the household. What business have other people's socks to be lost under my bed? How did they make their way there? And whose is the purple orange stripey one? I'm sure I've never laid eyes upon its like before.

My friend's kitten ignores the toys she's bought in favour of stealing socks from the sock drawer and playing with them instead. No wonder a person can't keep a pair together. Cute, yes, but ultimately problematic for a person trying to get dressed of a morning.

no scientific evidence for the cat's socksual preferences (it's a PhD waiting to be done)

I was sent on a day's training from work recently and it was inspiring like it was supposed to be as well for my ongoing socksual fascination. I say that because I wouldn't want you to think that I was distracted from my key purpose for the whole day. But in the afternoon the trainer lady appeared back from a tea break with bare, patchily red feet.

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?"