A while back I made a staement that while I carried a sak, it was just a sort of tool for my use, and would never really have a place of honor among my prized posessions. That a sak was too impersonal to develope an attachment to.
I was wrong.
For some months now I have been just carrying the pocket knives from my bitter sweet cigar box, the knives of past on family and friends. But no matter what I had in the side pocket of my pants, there has been a nylon pouch on my hip with a small AAA LED flashlight and a Wenger SI. I would use the Wenger SI for jobs that I deemed too grundgy or rough for my dad's old peanut, or grandads old stag Hen and Rooster. Of course as fate would have it, there seems to have been alot of those jobs of late.
Today was a mother! I had the lower deck torn out as I was tired of having to maintian it every summer, power washing, spraying on wood preservitive. After 20 years it was needing to be replaced, but I just had the thing demolished, leaving a bare section of dirt 40 feet out and about 12 wide. I decieded to just have more lawn. So after two runs to Home Depot I had 24 bags of 40 pounds of top soil to open and rake out with two large bags of grass seed to rake into it, and 6 mini bales of straw to scatter over it to keep the birds from eating the grass seed.
It took me all afternoon to load and unload 24 bags of top soil and get them around back of the house, but I was curious to see if I could still manage a bit of heavy work at my age. It was a grey chilly drizzling day, and it was all muddy, and a bear to do. Probably you young guys would have have it done in two hours, so just be quiet.
Anyways, to the knife content; I used my Wenger SI to cut open 24 dirty, muddy bags of dirt, dirty bailing twine off the minibales of hay, opened bags of grass seed, sharpen a few stakes to stretch some twine between to level the yard slightly away from the house. Usually cutting open those dirty bags of top soil is hard on a knife, so I was surprised that at the end of the day, the Wenger was still servicably sharp. It is not the hair shaving sharp it was this morning, but after cutting through alot of dirt coated 40 pound bags, and dirty twine, i's not too bad. I'll give it a touch up anyways, but as I was washing it out at the sink I was a little surprised that I realized I'd become attached to it.
There is no jigged bone handles, no mellow golden stag, not even a nice grey patined blade. The checkered alox handles look the same as they did, the stainless blade has a bit more scratches, but I looked at it and it was my knife. MY KNIFE. Somehow, when I was not looking, it had developed a personallity enough to become unique. The pattern of wear is something I'm familiar with. I look at it and I can recall cutting the hiking sticks for a couple of family members to aid them in crossing a stream on a hike. I can remember tightening a vital conection on Karen's Vespa scooter when it started to act up on a ride last summer. It's been usefull in taking down my Smith & Wesson 617 for cleaning after a shooting session, as it has done for my old Marlin 39 and Karen's K22. Like the scout knife I carried as a kid, it has many functions.
I don't know exactly when, but it's become an old friend.
Will surprises never cease?
I was wrong.
For some months now I have been just carrying the pocket knives from my bitter sweet cigar box, the knives of past on family and friends. But no matter what I had in the side pocket of my pants, there has been a nylon pouch on my hip with a small AAA LED flashlight and a Wenger SI. I would use the Wenger SI for jobs that I deemed too grundgy or rough for my dad's old peanut, or grandads old stag Hen and Rooster. Of course as fate would have it, there seems to have been alot of those jobs of late.
Today was a mother! I had the lower deck torn out as I was tired of having to maintian it every summer, power washing, spraying on wood preservitive. After 20 years it was needing to be replaced, but I just had the thing demolished, leaving a bare section of dirt 40 feet out and about 12 wide. I decieded to just have more lawn. So after two runs to Home Depot I had 24 bags of 40 pounds of top soil to open and rake out with two large bags of grass seed to rake into it, and 6 mini bales of straw to scatter over it to keep the birds from eating the grass seed.
It took me all afternoon to load and unload 24 bags of top soil and get them around back of the house, but I was curious to see if I could still manage a bit of heavy work at my age. It was a grey chilly drizzling day, and it was all muddy, and a bear to do. Probably you young guys would have have it done in two hours, so just be quiet.
Anyways, to the knife content; I used my Wenger SI to cut open 24 dirty, muddy bags of dirt, dirty bailing twine off the minibales of hay, opened bags of grass seed, sharpen a few stakes to stretch some twine between to level the yard slightly away from the house. Usually cutting open those dirty bags of top soil is hard on a knife, so I was surprised that at the end of the day, the Wenger was still servicably sharp. It is not the hair shaving sharp it was this morning, but after cutting through alot of dirt coated 40 pound bags, and dirty twine, i's not too bad. I'll give it a touch up anyways, but as I was washing it out at the sink I was a little surprised that I realized I'd become attached to it.
There is no jigged bone handles, no mellow golden stag, not even a nice grey patined blade. The checkered alox handles look the same as they did, the stainless blade has a bit more scratches, but I looked at it and it was my knife. MY KNIFE. Somehow, when I was not looking, it had developed a personallity enough to become unique. The pattern of wear is something I'm familiar with. I look at it and I can recall cutting the hiking sticks for a couple of family members to aid them in crossing a stream on a hike. I can remember tightening a vital conection on Karen's Vespa scooter when it started to act up on a ride last summer. It's been usefull in taking down my Smith & Wesson 617 for cleaning after a shooting session, as it has done for my old Marlin 39 and Karen's K22. Like the scout knife I carried as a kid, it has many functions.
I don't know exactly when, but it's become an old friend.
Will surprises never cease?