the sock vortex

Behind the washing machine, behind the lounge, behind the bed, behind every piece of furniture is a sock vortex.
How do I know? Every time I knit Jar a pair of socks one goes missing.
Never the bought socks with the holes in them, these seem to magically rise from the ashes of the garbage bin and end up in the sock drawer.
Tripy (my house trained gnome) is holding the surviving blue patonyle sock. 48 st, rib all the way down. Tripy's hat is one of the pair (relax I still have the other sock, it hasn't been sucked into a vortex yet) that I whipped up in the past few nights. It is a mix of left-over Heritage jigsaw with heels and toes in the blue patonyle.
The new onces are at least 2cm too long, but Jar still loves them. He had one on his foot walking around in the house waiting for me to finish the other one.
I've now got some Opal (forgotten how harsh that stuff is to knit) on the needles for him. I picked up two balls, both blues but different, for $20 total including postage from the bead and opal lady.
One croc sock for Zegal done, one started. My jaywalkers have stalled and I've cast on for Hedgerow socks for when I get bored of my everyday tweed.
I really shouldn't spend so much time on Ravelry, I should be knitting.