The hand.

Not surprisingly, after last night's gin thing, the lark was awake well before we were.  While the shoulder of lamb was roasting in a pot we took ourselves off for a walk along the beach in the sunshine.

It's been a while since I've had a lost shoe to post, but I don't think I'm going to start a lost glove series - the mystique isn't quite the same as it is for shoes.  However, there may be exceptions, such as when I find one wedged onto the end of a stick.