Ok, since we are on the home stretch sorta (last 2.5 weeks), this may help or hurt, not sure which. What do you plan to change out too after it is said and done?
Good question, and as he old bard said, there lays the rub!
Aside from an odd moment or two now and then, I've actually been pretty comfortable with my few, my happy few. It's been oddly comforting to get up in the morning, grab the jeans laying on the chair, and just getting dressed knowing all that I will probably need is already in the pockets. No last minute agonizing decisions of what knife to pick. Will the chestnut bone go better with my Woolrich plaid shirt, or will I run into bigfoot while hiking in Black Hill park? It's been a very peasant hazy time, like reacquainting myself with a couple of old friends, and wondering why I ever went off with those 'others'.
Or maybe the years of accumulating have caught up with me. I think that at one time or another, I've owned just about every kind of knife out there, with the exceptions of the modern black one hand stuff. I'm finding that as I have aged, more and more stuff is coming under the banner of "Been there, done that." Maybe knives are becoming like that. I still love knives, and wouldn't think of leaving the house without a sharp cutting tool in my pocket. Just too many uses, and twice in my life, I desperately needed a knife in a real world emergency, to help another in deep poo-poo. Besides, I fear that if I went out without a knife, and then needed one, I would feel a spectral slap on the back of my head, and the ghostly voice of either dad or Mr. Van, saying "Where's your knife, bonehead!"
In my senior citizen years, I've become very pragmatic, sometimes to a fault. It's a bit of a shock to realize that I am at a point in my life where everything I buy has a lifetime warrantee, and I'm almost afraid to buy green banana's. I know that I will never go backpacking again, but do I want to? We still go canoeing, but on local lakes, and I doubt I will be plunging down the Yukon in search of gold. So, what knife will fit a white bearded social security retiree living in the wilds of American suburbia? My dad made it with a peanut, and for a long time now, I have done so as well. I've given away most of my knives now, and the ones I've kept, fit my white dwarf life style.
A peanut, my little resolza, maybe one or two others. But I see a future with the little ones from now on. If I need something bigger, I have dad's old bushwhacker on hand.
Carl.