Ah well

Everything has an end (except the sausage, which has two). I think it's time to replace these fine leather gloves which I bought in Calgary in the spring of 1997. I've always maintained that they were purpose made for steer-wrestling. Mrs Enzo, more pragmatically, doubts this, but I believe the reason they - and I - have lasted so long is because I avoid wrestling with steers. Chopping up logs, in good Canadian lumberjack mode, has finished them off. Something to do with the friction of a fibreglass haft, I suppose.