Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Saturday, November 8, 2014

Pointy and Sharp

He sees a work of art. I see a cutting  . . . thing.
My Husby plays with knives.
Really.
I guess you could call him a genuine aficionado.
When he sees a knife, he has to examine it.
Check out what steel it's made of.
Feel its balance.
Grade the overall quality of its construction.
Yep. Aficionado.
Several years ago, he and our second son, who inherited all of his father's love of knives, took a knife-making course.
This merely served to up the ante, so to speak.
Now the two of them are constantly examining and purchasing bits of steel that could be used in the creation process.
We have a forge in our back yard.
My garage is stacked with pieces of specialized woods and animal horns that would be 'absolutely perfect' for a particular knife handle.
And all the tools used in the cutting, grinding and polishing of fine steel sit where a normal person would park their car.
Sigh.
It keeps him happy.
And did I mention that we have very fine knives in our kitchen?
Well, we do.
Every shape and size imaginable.
They are S.H.A.R.P.
Each knife in my kitchen has a specific purpose.
My Husby would be happy to elucidate.
At great length.
I wouldn't be listening.
Because I use only two.
A small, paring knife that he purchased for me in Corsica . . .
I should point out, here, that most people buy souvenirs when they travel. My Husby is the same. Except that said souvenirs invariably consist of something sharp and pointy.
With excellent steel, good balance and a really, really interesting handle.
He bought the first on our honeymoon. 
And continued.
Moving on . . .
My second knife is an ordinary-looking blade.
Just the right size for me.
Both are wrong.
Oh, they are good knives.
Do an excellent job.
Look nice.
But as my Husby is so fond of pointing out, they are not the right knife for whatever job I am requiring of them.
Invariably, when he comes into the kitchen when I am cooking, the first words out of his mouth are, “You're using the wrong knife.”
To which he is rewarded with a heated glare.
Let's face it, he's a brave man to say such things when his wife has something razor sharp and very pointy in one hand.
I have often told him so.
He just laughs.
But I will have the last laugh.
And I tell him that on his gravestone, it will read, “She used the wrong knife!”
No jury would convict me.
Just FYI. 

14 comments:

  1. Still laughing over here.....

    ReplyDelete
  2. One time my brother in law threw out EVERY knife, because they were the wrong knives. He replaced them with the RIGHT knives. I went through the trash and rescued my FAVORITE knife. Fast forward to a day I reached for my knife. Not in the drawer. Not in the dishwasher. I looked around. My brother in law sat at the kitchen table, using MY KNIFE to cut his lunch. I marched over, took it away and told him never to use it again. He hasn't.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ha! When the voice of authority speaks . . . especially when that voice is holding a knife . . .

      Delete
  3. I use the "wrong" knife for almost everything. A cheap small sized chopper, (cleaver?) that I got at the Asian supermarket many years ago. It just feels "right" in my small hand. Most of the other knives just sit in their designated spots and look nice.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's my house exactly! My two little special knives. The rest are for husby.

      Delete
  4. I love the ending. And the rest of the story, also, but especially the ending :)

    Another "wrong knife" user here. So-called wrong knife, anyhow. It seems you are in good company here.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Very cute story! I think it is an awesome hobby and one that he shares with his son is even better. I do love your ending though.
    Blessings for the smiles on this one!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks so much, LeAnn! They have a lot of fun together!

      Delete
  6. My husband always says "you need the right knife for the right job". I shall refer him to your hubby!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hmmm . . . I'm torn between wanting to get these two together and wanting to keep them apart!

      Delete
  7. My son must have been using the wrong knife when he carved his pumpkin!!

    ReplyDelete
  8. This is so funny! My mother also uses the wrong knife! She uses the same desperately sharp filet knife to cut her potatoes that I fry every.single.night but that's a different story. She makes me a nervous wreck but she wipes it down when she's done and says "this knife has been around forever" every.single.night! I hope she never stops.

    ReplyDelete

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