- Joined
- Feb 14, 2014
- Messages
- 1,400
Friends,
Some of you may have noticed that my activity over the last year has been sporadic at best. This has been due to shifting financial priorities over the past year. We bought a house, I had surgery on my neck that cost a small fortune, and I've bought and sold enough firearms over the last year looking for my "perfect system", that I probably am on a government watchlist somewhere. (I settled on Sigs, a custom built AK, and am building an SBR along with a standard 18" AR). Anyway, these events left me in a condition called Fiddlebackapenia, a condition of having zero Fiddleback Forge knives. It's been a little over a year since I last held one. I never strayed from the community and I haven't been buying other makers knives, save a couple of folders. I've been lurking in the shadows and a few weeks ago I finally pounced on a beautiful Woodsman. It had been so long, but the "high" I received from calling her mine was just as potent as the first Sneaky Pete I bought over 2 years ago. As I awaited her arrival from USPS, I wondered how I would feel when she arrived. Would I still be excited? Would the handle still feel familiar and inviting? Would it inspire me to get outdoors and cut shit up? Short answer: Yes, yes, and yes. Sadly, my luck shortly turned and I had to sell her off to a great home after just a few short days.
Then last week I said "Enough!" I went on a search for a Runt. The best little friend a guy could have, easily quipped to handle daily tasks and small enough to stow away anywhere. A Fiddie you never have to leave behind. The little guy arrived lightening fast (thank you ndmiller) and I played with him all day yesterday. The feelings and addiction instantly returned. I was as happy as a tornado in a trailer park!
Tonight while fixing dinner, I happened to glance over at the cutting board where I stow my daily EDC gear. I saw his little ass sticking out of his KSF pocket sheath. His little tapered tang caught a beam of light, and standing there all alone in the kitchen, I smiled. Thank you Andy, for making a tool that performs it's job perfectly, but still manages to capture it's own little personality before it leaves your shop.
If you ever thought you could kick the fiddleback disease, you may make a run at it as long as you stay far, far away. Eventually, you will be called back, and the sweet bite of those fangs will forever feel familiar and intoxicating.
This shark is back in the waters!
Some of you may have noticed that my activity over the last year has been sporadic at best. This has been due to shifting financial priorities over the past year. We bought a house, I had surgery on my neck that cost a small fortune, and I've bought and sold enough firearms over the last year looking for my "perfect system", that I probably am on a government watchlist somewhere. (I settled on Sigs, a custom built AK, and am building an SBR along with a standard 18" AR). Anyway, these events left me in a condition called Fiddlebackapenia, a condition of having zero Fiddleback Forge knives. It's been a little over a year since I last held one. I never strayed from the community and I haven't been buying other makers knives, save a couple of folders. I've been lurking in the shadows and a few weeks ago I finally pounced on a beautiful Woodsman. It had been so long, but the "high" I received from calling her mine was just as potent as the first Sneaky Pete I bought over 2 years ago. As I awaited her arrival from USPS, I wondered how I would feel when she arrived. Would I still be excited? Would the handle still feel familiar and inviting? Would it inspire me to get outdoors and cut shit up? Short answer: Yes, yes, and yes. Sadly, my luck shortly turned and I had to sell her off to a great home after just a few short days.
Then last week I said "Enough!" I went on a search for a Runt. The best little friend a guy could have, easily quipped to handle daily tasks and small enough to stow away anywhere. A Fiddie you never have to leave behind. The little guy arrived lightening fast (thank you ndmiller) and I played with him all day yesterday. The feelings and addiction instantly returned. I was as happy as a tornado in a trailer park!
Tonight while fixing dinner, I happened to glance over at the cutting board where I stow my daily EDC gear. I saw his little ass sticking out of his KSF pocket sheath. His little tapered tang caught a beam of light, and standing there all alone in the kitchen, I smiled. Thank you Andy, for making a tool that performs it's job perfectly, but still manages to capture it's own little personality before it leaves your shop.
If you ever thought you could kick the fiddleback disease, you may make a run at it as long as you stay far, far away. Eventually, you will be called back, and the sweet bite of those fangs will forever feel familiar and intoxicating.
This shark is back in the waters!
