It's winter. A fire crackles in the grate. And as I type this, my hands are cold.
Maybe I have poor circulation, or maybe it's because of my low iron levels, but my hands always seem to get cold.
But it's a reminder about gloves, and how we can be thankful for them. No, I'm not wearing gloves right this minute. (But I have worn fingerless ones while working before).
When you're outside, and the air's cold enough to bite...when your pockets don't quite do the job...you wriggle your hands into those gloves...and be thankful for the wool of sheep and the machines that made them.
Thank you God for gloves.
(And I didn't even get round to medical gloves, gardening gloves, washing up gloves...)
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