Glowing Coals

Well, it's a bit dreich out. Indoors, I've been preparing for a workshop. The kind where nothing is made, but coffee is served sometime in the morning and sometime in the afternoon, and we'll have a break for lunch. Let's meet back at ... what time is it now... let's say twenty past one.
Shuffle shuffle. Still, the day was not without it's small successes. The son cycled down to Leith Walk to the LRT Lost Property and retrieved a pair of brown suede gloves I'd left carelessly on the bus on Friday morning. I'm getting worse. At my age my Dad also had to look after a pipe, tobacco and lighter. He was hopeless at that too, I seem to recall. He did however, make real things in his workshop.