Happy Endings for Hosiery

Scrambled eggs and spicy tomatoey deliciousness.

Peanutbutter, honey and banana on toast.

It is a rare load of laundry for me in which only pairs of socks emerge at the other end.  And yet, today I have achieved just that: a rummage of contentedly coupled hose (rummage seems to me to be the aptest collective noun for socks that I can think of). So, my contribution to the pantheon of writings about lost socks is an usual, happy tale of halves and their wholes. That's nice. For the socks.