When I was a wee lass, my dad brought my brother and I home pocket knives. Nothing special, but they were American and those cheap Imperial knives of which a million were made.
Being a good child, and not having any use for a knife, but wanting such a use, I lost the thing.......well I think it was not lost, but I couldn't get at the thing behind a seat. This really irked me, and it gauled me in my Spirit, so losing a knife really grates on me to this day.
I finally found that knife again, promptly broke the tip off and ground it down, and carried it along with Aunt Selma's pen knife she gave me to school, at which time my Mom purchased for me one Christmas an Old Timer, little ranch pocket knife, which I hacked at things agrarian for a number of years, until Uncle decided to take me fishing and upon tying leaders to my line at home, I somehow lost that thing and have been pissed off about that ever since.
Hmmmmm.........
So Mom replace that with another little wrangler knife, but I don't like little things and that irked me too, so I finally decided that Townsend Whelen was right in a Trapper knife was the whole shebang and I got me a Trapper knife from Schrade Cutlery.........American and not Chicom version.
I deeply love my Trapper as it has a skinner and pelter, and it is just big so you know you got something in the your pocket and it is quite comforting. It would take a most loved person, before I would part with my knife over them in a trade from the barbarians.
So that is the story so far, in I love Trappers......but I hate those expensive knives by Case and such. Something just gets my goat in expensive knives in snobbery, like Buck knive are all over 20 bucks, and Case are around 50. Knives are supposed to be under 20 according to my dictatorship........and you know those expensive damned knives always got this hard steel in them that take forever to edge and then go dull.
Grampa Bill always said, "It is a dull knife which cuts you", and he should know as he slit his wrist while pruning a Whitney Crab.........cool thing was Gram wrapped it up in an apron which was filthy, and then she poured Methiolate on it, and he almost passed out from the pain in he turned white.
That is why I love Shrade stuff, good edge, easy to edge on steel and the price is in my decision range of buying two.
Where was I?
Oh yeah, about knives.........
Knives are fickle, like women. Damn things get lost, and do you think they will speak up and say, "Hey buster, I just jumped out of your pocket, so come get me", Hell no they don't!
They just lay around and don't say a word, and pretty soon here comes some other guy and picks it up my knife and walks off with it.
Yes mam, knives walk off on their own allot.
I have found these vixens in fields.........my brother found a beauty of an old Western, like bird knife out west, that I still lust after in coventous behavior............a good brother would share the knife wealth, but he just keeps it and torments me with that treasure......that sure is a fine looking knife for being a cheap ass creation from 1965.
So, I'm out rewiring a water well, around here, about 2 weeks ago. You know slicing off things, cutting things, wrapping things, cussing things, and getting some help and the help walks off, so you get busy talking to yourself and you lay your knife down on the pump, and get to walking around there, and testing things, and decide it is time to head for home..........and that damn knife just smugly lays there taking a nap.
As your knife is always in you pants, you never feel it, especially if this is your up town pants, as I have up town pants, driving pants, short pants, sitting pants, pants pants, and I have knives in all my pants as I don't like changing knives around and it is just easier to have my knife for up town in my uptown pants.
I broke down in lust and bought Beartooth Trapper...........Chicom version, so it is not as nice as the Yank, but it has this tweezer in it, and it has this toothpick in it, which is a metal rod sharper than a needle and that damn thing always pokes me and draws blood every time I pull it out.
Yes some knives are malevolent and can not be tamed. This Beartooth is that way and like drawing my blood.
So I'm about the country like I always am, and have on my town pants a few times, roaming across state lines, and of course my pants are deceitful too in not even acting like something is missing.
For two weeks this conspiracy is going on, until I get home from town today and decide to slice into some feed bags.......and no knife.
I'm stunned really, as I think, "What the hell, are these my sitting around pants and I didn't change them?"
I can't tell my pants as Wranglers all look the same, and the knives tell them apart.
So I vooch inside and look about..........nope sitting pants are where I left them........Mom's knife is in them....................Quite discouraged I grumble about, "Where in the hell is that knife".
That stews on me big time the rest of the day............fricking unfaithful knives.
So the Holy Ghost says, "You know you wore that vest", so I check.......no knife. Check all my coats, jackets, pants and things I don't wear, as I don't pay attention to what I don't wear, and still no knife.
I get to thinking by God and figure on checking the last place I think I remember that knife was out of my pants and that was by the well.........so I go and check......no knife.
Thinking I'm quite insane as I don't know what the hell happened to this, I grab a magnet thing from the house and start rooting through the weeds after I said to the Holy Ghost, "Show me where that knife is".
Fortunately I have a Mother who watches over me too and keeps reign on me, as I get upset about losing adulterous knives, and as I'm sweeping over the grass, explaining I laid that knife on that platform, what pops up from under a pile of grass but my vixen knife.
Two damn weeks that knife laid there without a word. I even was there several times checking tanks and pumping water..........just laid there in that blanket bed of grass not even giving me a love call.
I almost threw that knife as far as I could in experiencing such treachery. Some folks get off on cuckold and watching spouses with black men, but I tell you this, I'm like Norm MacDonald that fine American from Canada, in I just don't get that sh*t and don't want no part of it........nobody rides my horse, no body shoots my gun and nobody plays with my knives.
So I bring the lost knife in, after making sure I don't lose the thing in the yard, and examine the thing.......no rust, but the fake horn is dull now, and that toothpick was rusty after rain on it........so I olive oil it up, rub it with a scowering pad, and after all that TLC, the damn thing pokes me and draws blood.
Then I sit down to write this, and cause the oil is wet, I put it up on my couch, and sure as hell I lose it again as I check on it.........what a treacherous whore this knife is, like some Craigslist hussy.
Thank God I found it, and it is in my town pants..........and I'm thinking about sowing the pocket shut.
Knifes you can not trust them. They are always out of your pants and someone is walking off with them.
agtG
