reÂ·straint (rÄ-strÄnt’) n.
The act of not stabbing with your knitting needles the man across the aisle who is snoring so loudly he keeps waking himself up.
One who engages in restraint for the sole reason of not bloodying magnificent yarn.
Current train WIP:
This would be why I exercised restraint this morning. Great Adirondack Sireno, a 50/50 silk/merino blend, in a colorway they call “Nantucket Blue” but I prefer to call “Prozac fiber.” It’s crack — granted, my ol’faithful bamboo circs are hardly the pointiest needles in the world, but when you knit in a moving vehicle there are times where the needle will try to split the yarn no matter what you do — and this yarn just refuses to be splitty. It’s a joy to work with , and the Clap is going to show off its variegation really well.
Finished: Whitby socks. Will photograph, when I remember to charge my camera batteries.
Other WIPs on the needles at the moment: Tigger hat for Sunday’s baby shower (and still have to seam one sweater, wash ’em, and throw on the buttons — but that’s short work) and booties if I have time; Lady Elanor, which I haven’t touched in a week or so, but will probably crack down on this weekend.