I never understood the fuss about alpaca socks until this winter. Now I’m a believer!
I have several pairs, of course—what self-respecting alpaca rancher wouldn’t own a few fiber products? They keep my feet warm in the house, and I like the way they feel in my hiking boots. But I had an experience this year have caused me to rethink the value of this remarkable product.
I looked out my window at nursery pen one rainy morning in early November to discover that Chicaya was giving birth. In my haste to get down the hill, I threw on some old galoshes over my socks instead of my regular boots. I scooped up the cria and headed uphill for the barn, Mama in hot pursuit.
There’s a reason the Spanish built things out of this Ventura County mud. When it’s hard, it’s like…well… bricks. And when it’s wet, it’s like the best “slip”ever produced for ceramics. In short, it sucked my boot off, and there I was like Diddle Diddle Dumpling, with one shoe off and one shoe on….
I had no choice. I put my stocking foot down in the mud, shifted the cria to one arm, and put my boot back on. Mama was very nervous by now and kept circling me, humming. When we finally got to the barn, I found towels, Novalsan and a cria coat, and began the process of warming up the new baby. An hour or so later, Baby was dry, warm and happily nursing, so I headed up to the house.
As I stepped into the mud porch, I had a sudden vision of what the inside of my boot must look like. With caution I removed my boot, expecting to find a wet, sticky mess. Imagine my surprise and delight when I found a DRY SOCK!! There were little beads of dried mud on it, but when I brushed it off, it was good as new. Then I thought back to the last hour and realized that I hadn’t experienced that cold-squishy-wet-sock feeling. In fact, I hadn’t even thought about it. I shook my head, shrugged my shoulders, and went on with my office work with 2 warm, dry feet.
If you’ve never experienced the pleasure of alpaca socks, let me know. I’ll get you a pair.