I am no longer blogging here at Little Nuances, but I would love for you to join me on my author website www.leewarren.info.

Wednesday, October 01, 2008


I was going through a junk drawer the other day looking for something when I ran across an old pocketknife. I haven't seen one in years, but it sure brought back a lot of memories.

Remember when nearly every boy carried a pocketknife? I got my first one when I was in the Cub Scouts. And I can remember a green one that my grandfather gave me shortly thereafter. It had an emblem on it from an organization he belonged to or supported. I wish I still had knife somewhere. Maybe I do, but I haven't seen it in years.

Whittling sticks was sort of the in thing back then. I had an uncle who used to fascinate me with his whittling talents. He lived in Arkansas and I only got to see him once every year or two, but most of my memories of him revolve around him sitting at his picnic table and whittling blocks of wood into various animals. He could do amazing things with a small knife.

I never had the desire or talent to follow in his footsteps, but I still spent some time whittling. I'd look around my grandparents' yard for sticks that were about as thick as my thumb and I'd sit on the picnic table in their back and whittle away. Eventually, I'd whittle the stick until it had a sharp point at one end and I'd throw the "spear" into the woods.

Probably not the safest of practices, but going through Cub Scouts for a couple of years gave me a healthy respect for using instruments like pocketknives correctly.

I was never into the pocketknives that had a corkscrew and a screwdriver and a bottle opener and 19 other features. I just wanted a good strong, sharp blade and maybe one short, sharp blade. I wanted it fit into my jeans pocket without feeling like I was carrying the kitchen sink.

Remember that pocketknife I told you I found recently? I don't really remember where this particular one came from, but I know it's part of the memories I've shared with you here in this post, and it makes me want to hang on to it.


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