That's right, not a pair of shoes, or a purse, but a pair of gloves. And not the fancy going to tea gloves, or black opera length gloves that I used to wear when I was in New York in my twenties. Work gloves. I love them every bit as much as those other things.
The first day I was here, when Pam and Gary and I went into town to get some things at the hardware store (thank god there's a hardware store in every town, no matter how small) and I got these. I stood at the glove rack for a long time, and debated whether I should just get the cheapy canvas ones, you know, the sort-of grey blue ones that have what looks like mattress ticking, or these, or something with a rubber grip. Of course, these were the expensive ones (it's all relative) but I knew I would love them, so I got them. They're padded and warm, but you can still feel through them, you can pet a big dog, or press the self-timer button on your camera, or carry firewood. Of course they're already showing wear, since I use them every day for something.
Today's a day to get some work done.