Fur mittens have one reason to exist. Keep hands warm. And in this enviornment absolutely everything else fails. My darling has a pair of bear fur mittens an elderly Eskimo woman made him before she passed away. They are beautiful, but are growing old. The sun, wind, and snow has put wear on their leather. So I set forth in the attempt to make him another pair. These would be black beaver with wolverine trim. The black beaver would match his hat. The wolverine would match his ruff. And so all three would become a set. But as always my measurements and patterns take many tries before perfection. A month later I have finally finished after many days of complete frustration. They're warm and new. The fur is shiny. The leather is white. They're perfect. I feel the elderly woman who made his first pair smiling down on me. It's the best reward of my accomplishment.
