requiem

We are gathered here today to say farewell to H's old ski gloves.  They have left us, not before their time, but long, long, long after their time.  He has had these gloves for more than twelve years - since before we moved to Utah - and they have been worked hard.  For the last couple of years, they've been more open holes and duct tape than actual material and so soft and broken down as to have little to no insulating properties left.  They were excellent conversation starters on chairlift rides, however.

He has actually had another pair of ski gloves sitting on the shelf for two or three years; that pair is a little too small, however, plus H didn't want to give up on the old ones while they were still useful (his words).

Me: [massive eyeroll]

The reason why we are now, finally, saying goodbye to these gloves is because the last time we were down in Moab, we stopped into Walkers hardware store and he bought a pair of Kinco gloves.  A lot of good skiers out here wear Kincos; H has been looking for some but hadn't found any in his size.  Now he has and now he can put the old gloves to rest.  (Or maybe keep them around just in case he needs snow-shoveling gloves.  You never know.)