every day in 2016, write a sentence or a paragraph or a poem that appreciates
knives
oh my, yes, knives! wherever did I learn that appreciation? I don't know. in some book I read about a man who could throw a knife, and I tried and tried and tried to learn the skill. never did. but by then I had already watched, fascinated, as cooks chopped celery or onions, as they sliced green peppers or tomatoes or pineapples, as they carved a chicken. how ever did I keep fingertips after watching those displays? I useta sharpen my pencils for school with a pocket knife, and prided myself on how steep an angle I could carve. when I learned the Boy Scout motto, Be Prepared, I immediately understood, always carry a knife, and know how to use it. I preferred knives with some heft in the blade, so they chunked into wood. I kept my mother's blades sharp. except aluminum blades - do you remember aluminum blades? - which would dull as you put away the sharpening stone. I imagined revolvers with a bayonet attached to the barrel for when you ran out of bullets. I even designed a holster for a gun like that. I probably learned leathercraft as much to use the knives involved as to build holsters and scabbards, and oh yeah, wallets and purses and belts and, no, I never got around to an actual saddle, but I built a model of a saddle, all tooled. I've owned a bayonet, a dagger, a stiletto, an alleged throwing knife, and over a dozen pocket knives (serially, not in parallel). I've owned at one time and another, three different Swiss Army knives, although I've never really considered it a knife - it's a multi-tool with a blade or two. I almost always own at least one X-acto knife. once when I went into a hardware store, I fell into a trance staring at a set of knives whose use as tools I could hardly imagine. another time in a pawn shop, I added up the prices of all the knives I wanted and damn near cried because I would never ever have that much pocket money. yes, I appreciate knives.
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