Knitting and wool

In the last few months, I've been relearning how to knit. I first learned back when I was, oh, seven or eight, but I never learned to cast off or purl, so I couldn't finish anything. But I collected yarn, figuring that someday I'd get around to it. Well, now I'm in my mid-forties, and I've gotten around to it. I have a trunkful of interesting bits of yarn, and have discovered a new and expensive vice: knitting shops. Inua Wool, which is right nearby on Henderson Road, is a very dangerous place for me to go into. Not only does it have lovely yarns of every description, they are in bright and subtle colors, they're fuzzy and warm—and the store has books.

My only hope is not to go into Leah's store in the first place. Ha!

The other thing about taking up knitting is that I've been learning about wool, and the wool industry in Alaska. Basically, it's all about qiviut and the domestication of musk oxen, which I think is an excellent idea. I mean, why bring in all these animals unsuited to the environment and spend all that effort just trying to get them to survive? Why not start with an animal that can handle a hundred degrees below zero from the get-go?

But there are sheep up here, even in the Interior. I still have a few hanks of white yarn from Tanana Wools.