It was spring break, and the old man was happy their granddaughter has flown to Texas for the week. His daughter had accompanied her and flew back just 48 hours later, leaving the little girl with the grandparents. There were outings in the Texas countryside, and fishing on the slow waters of the San Gabrial river. The granddaughter was not new to fishing, and the last time they had been on a fishing trip, had skunked everyone with the biggest trout of the day. Now in Texas, she was having good luck on the local fish. With a few for lunch, they were ready to clean and go home to cook.
The old man handed his granddaughter a knife she was familiar with, his little brown jigged delrin Remington/Camillus peanut. The girl had used this same knife the summer before in the Sierra Nevada's and she grinned and took it form the grandfathers hand.
"Have you kept it sharp, grandpa?" she asked the old man.
"Just as sharp as the last time you used it." he told her.
With that, the girl went to work, with the old man watching over her to spot any bad techniques that could lead to a cut in the wrong place. But the girl was sure of her cuts, carefully done with care to keeping the blade cutting away from her, and making sure her left hand was clear of the blade path. In a very short while, the fish were cleaned and ready for transport home, and into a hot iron skillet. The girl reached into the river and swished the little peanut around to clean the worst of the fish slime off and shook it off, carefully blowing into the knife to get any water out.
"It needs some cleaning at home, grandpa. Will we do that immediately or eat first?" she asked the old man.
"We'll give it a cleaning soon's we're home, while gamy gets the cooking done." he told her, "That was deal, we catch them, she cooks them!"
Once home, the fish were delivered to the kitchen and the girls grandmother, Gammy, set to work putting her favorite iron skillet to heat on the stove while she rolled the fish in the batter she had made. The old man and the girl went out to the work shop in the backyard to take care of the little peanut. The old man just watched as the girl, did what she had learned from their past get togethers. Steady for an eight year old, she slowly honed the blade on the fine stone, going in small circles and working slowly up the blade towards the tip. The old man was a little nervous watching the edge rotating on the stone, just an inch from the little finger tips, but the girl didn't waver. She worked carefully, taking her time to get to the blade tip.
"You remember pretty good!" the old man told her.
"I remember almost everything you teach me, grandpa. And I know if I'm doing something wrong, you'll tell me. " she told the old man.
The sat in companionable silence while the girl worked both sides of the blade and looked at it carefully in the light. When she was satisfied, the old man handed her a piece of paper torn from a notepad on the workbench, and the girl sliced down through the paper. The thin blade whispered through the paper, and the girl grinned.
"Good enough, grandpa?" she asked.
"Good enough!" the old man agreed.
The girl then took the little bottle of mineral oil from the shelf and once the cap was off, she dipped a toothpick into the oil. Working carefully, she let it drip into the blade pivots, and then worked the blades back and forth. Using a rag, she wiped off the execss oil and then doubled the rg over and got it down in the blade recesses to wipe out any dirt, and then examined the knife carefully. The old man watched as she held the knife, almost caressing the jigged brown handles. After a long, almost reluctant pause, she handed the peanut to the old man, who dropped it in his pocket.
"Hey you two, come and get it while it's hot!" came the call from the house.
The rest of the girls visit to Texas was filled with a hike, target practice in the back yard with air guns, a trip to the range for some work with the .22 rifle. The little Marlin 39TD with it's 16 inch barrel and short butt stock was suited for the girls eight year old frame, and the Williams receiver sight made things a bit easier. All too soon the week was up, and old man was dropping his wife and granddaughter at the airport for her return to California. Putting the bags in the trunk for the drive to the airport, the old man asked, "You're checking your bag, right?"
His wife and granddaughter looked at his a bit bewildered.
"No," his wife said, "We're just doing carry on to avoid the wait on the other end."
"Well, you'll have to check Bree's bag, there's going to be a certain pocket knife in it." the old man told his wife.
"What?" the girl asked surprised, "Grandpa, you're giving me your peanut? For real?"
"Yes, it's yours now, but you have to promise that when you get to California, you give it to your mom to hold onto it for you. You'll use in on weekends or trips, but until you're old enough, mom's going to be the caretaker, okay?"
The girls reply was to throw her arms around the old man in an emotional outburst.
"Oh grandpa!" she practically yelled. "I'll be careful and never carry it to school or around until you and mom say I can. Promise, promise, promise!"
The whole drive to the airport, the girl sat in the car, chicken eying and coon fingering her new knife, even though she had been very familiar with it from previous visits and uses. But now it was different. It was her's. At the airport, the old man zipped open the girls suitcase and shoved the little knife far down in her things and zipped it up. Goodbyes were said.
"You're the very best grandpa in the world!" she said to the old man as she hugged him goodbye.
"Well, that makes us even, since you're the best granddaughter in the world!" the old man told her.
The old man handed his granddaughter a knife she was familiar with, his little brown jigged delrin Remington/Camillus peanut. The girl had used this same knife the summer before in the Sierra Nevada's and she grinned and took it form the grandfathers hand.
"Have you kept it sharp, grandpa?" she asked the old man.
"Just as sharp as the last time you used it." he told her.
With that, the girl went to work, with the old man watching over her to spot any bad techniques that could lead to a cut in the wrong place. But the girl was sure of her cuts, carefully done with care to keeping the blade cutting away from her, and making sure her left hand was clear of the blade path. In a very short while, the fish were cleaned and ready for transport home, and into a hot iron skillet. The girl reached into the river and swished the little peanut around to clean the worst of the fish slime off and shook it off, carefully blowing into the knife to get any water out.
"It needs some cleaning at home, grandpa. Will we do that immediately or eat first?" she asked the old man.
"We'll give it a cleaning soon's we're home, while gamy gets the cooking done." he told her, "That was deal, we catch them, she cooks them!"
Once home, the fish were delivered to the kitchen and the girls grandmother, Gammy, set to work putting her favorite iron skillet to heat on the stove while she rolled the fish in the batter she had made. The old man and the girl went out to the work shop in the backyard to take care of the little peanut. The old man just watched as the girl, did what she had learned from their past get togethers. Steady for an eight year old, she slowly honed the blade on the fine stone, going in small circles and working slowly up the blade towards the tip. The old man was a little nervous watching the edge rotating on the stone, just an inch from the little finger tips, but the girl didn't waver. She worked carefully, taking her time to get to the blade tip.
"You remember pretty good!" the old man told her.
"I remember almost everything you teach me, grandpa. And I know if I'm doing something wrong, you'll tell me. " she told the old man.
The sat in companionable silence while the girl worked both sides of the blade and looked at it carefully in the light. When she was satisfied, the old man handed her a piece of paper torn from a notepad on the workbench, and the girl sliced down through the paper. The thin blade whispered through the paper, and the girl grinned.
"Good enough, grandpa?" she asked.
"Good enough!" the old man agreed.
The girl then took the little bottle of mineral oil from the shelf and once the cap was off, she dipped a toothpick into the oil. Working carefully, she let it drip into the blade pivots, and then worked the blades back and forth. Using a rag, she wiped off the execss oil and then doubled the rg over and got it down in the blade recesses to wipe out any dirt, and then examined the knife carefully. The old man watched as she held the knife, almost caressing the jigged brown handles. After a long, almost reluctant pause, she handed the peanut to the old man, who dropped it in his pocket.
"Hey you two, come and get it while it's hot!" came the call from the house.
The rest of the girls visit to Texas was filled with a hike, target practice in the back yard with air guns, a trip to the range for some work with the .22 rifle. The little Marlin 39TD with it's 16 inch barrel and short butt stock was suited for the girls eight year old frame, and the Williams receiver sight made things a bit easier. All too soon the week was up, and old man was dropping his wife and granddaughter at the airport for her return to California. Putting the bags in the trunk for the drive to the airport, the old man asked, "You're checking your bag, right?"
His wife and granddaughter looked at his a bit bewildered.
"No," his wife said, "We're just doing carry on to avoid the wait on the other end."
"Well, you'll have to check Bree's bag, there's going to be a certain pocket knife in it." the old man told his wife.
"What?" the girl asked surprised, "Grandpa, you're giving me your peanut? For real?"
"Yes, it's yours now, but you have to promise that when you get to California, you give it to your mom to hold onto it for you. You'll use in on weekends or trips, but until you're old enough, mom's going to be the caretaker, okay?"
The girls reply was to throw her arms around the old man in an emotional outburst.
"Oh grandpa!" she practically yelled. "I'll be careful and never carry it to school or around until you and mom say I can. Promise, promise, promise!"
The whole drive to the airport, the girl sat in the car, chicken eying and coon fingering her new knife, even though she had been very familiar with it from previous visits and uses. But now it was different. It was her's. At the airport, the old man zipped open the girls suitcase and shoved the little knife far down in her things and zipped it up. Goodbyes were said.
"You're the very best grandpa in the world!" she said to the old man as she hugged him goodbye.
"Well, that makes us even, since you're the best granddaughter in the world!" the old man told her.
