Swallows are the traditional harbingers of spring. Lost gloves draped forlornly over bollards, spiked on railings, perched in a tree, lying disconsolate in the gutter, or neatly pegged on a line in the preschool foyer, are winter’s heralds.
Swallows are the traditional harbingers of spring. Lost gloves draped forlornly over bollards, spiked on railings, perched in a tree, lying disconsolate in the gutter, or neatly pegged on a line in the preschool foyer, are winter’s heralds.
I see the hand of friendship, Meg, but so forlorn. Can I have that chirpy looking black and white one? It looks about my size. I have an odd glove in my pocket, mourning for a mate. Much love to you and the family. Wishing you joy throughout the year ahead. 🙂
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Is your odd glove b&w or are you joining Gilly in the world of the mismatch? We of course had to be different: we found Maja’s scarf wound around one of the guard posts near the lights. No mere glove-losing for the MOD clan!
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Oh, poor little forlorn gloves!
Wishing you a lovely family Christmas, and all the best for a 2017 filled with new experiences and memories…..
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And you too, my friend.
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Thank you, Meg xx
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They definitely need rescuing, so I’d like the stripey one for one hand and the black and white for the other, no one would be surprised to see me with odd ones on. Have a wonderful Polish Christmas my dear and a happy, healthy new year. With love from Gx
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So far I haven’t contributed to the pool of lost gloves, but yesterday I managed to lose six eggs, in a carton, between the frig and the benchtop – three whole paces. I had to forego scrambled eggs.
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These remind me of a Christmas wreath exhibition I saw last year. All of the wreaths were made using unconventional materials, and one consisted entirely of unmatched lost gloves. Happy Christmas!
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What an excellent use of the poor lonely things: no more loneliness in such a community!
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