I've wanted this for ages. So excited when it arrived in the post today so :
I've taken the scales off, reprofiled the blade and changed the sheath for one made out of my dead dogs hackle skin. It's now 25% lighter than before and half as sharp. I love it, but it will stay in a drawer until I am reunited with the dog in the afterlife. I'll stick with my old one.
I can't decide how much to take, I know it only needs a pinch to light a fire, but I might need to light lots of fires. . . . . Sod it, I'll take all 4 kilos. I can skip carrying water. I don't need it for anything anyway. I'll just drink tea.
I pretended I won it or swapped it for an apple, or an opportunity to paint a fence. Either way she has no idea. Like I don't about the shoes that she keeps buying.
I've removed one arm as it rustled and replaced it with some guttering tube, swapped all the zips with press studs and sewn pockets of belly button fluff under both armpits, just in case I have no tinder to hand. Now it doesn't fit. I wonder if I can sell it to Bob?
I've lightened my pack to accommodate it. I don't really need a sleeping bag anyway.
I set it on fire trying to 'weather' it. The missus want's to know where all the tea towels have gone. She hasn't noticed my eyebrows yet.
I was so pleased at how cheap I managed to get it for as it was incomplete / damaged. I now have to replace all the missing parts at approximately 200% more than it would have cost to buy a new one.
Now I can't afford to pay the gas bill. Gas is overated as a heating medium anyway. . . . Isn't it Love? Where are you going with that bag? Eh? You don't even like your sister. . . . .
I have promised myself I will sell my old one to part pay for this new one. Secretly I know I won't, and it will end up on a shelf gathering dust with my other previously best things I've ever bought and must have or I'll explode.
I immediately broke it.
Please don't tell me that this is just me?
I've taken the scales off, reprofiled the blade and changed the sheath for one made out of my dead dogs hackle skin. It's now 25% lighter than before and half as sharp. I love it, but it will stay in a drawer until I am reunited with the dog in the afterlife. I'll stick with my old one.
I can't decide how much to take, I know it only needs a pinch to light a fire, but I might need to light lots of fires. . . . . Sod it, I'll take all 4 kilos. I can skip carrying water. I don't need it for anything anyway. I'll just drink tea.
I pretended I won it or swapped it for an apple, or an opportunity to paint a fence. Either way she has no idea. Like I don't about the shoes that she keeps buying.
I've removed one arm as it rustled and replaced it with some guttering tube, swapped all the zips with press studs and sewn pockets of belly button fluff under both armpits, just in case I have no tinder to hand. Now it doesn't fit. I wonder if I can sell it to Bob?
I've lightened my pack to accommodate it. I don't really need a sleeping bag anyway.
I set it on fire trying to 'weather' it. The missus want's to know where all the tea towels have gone. She hasn't noticed my eyebrows yet.
I was so pleased at how cheap I managed to get it for as it was incomplete / damaged. I now have to replace all the missing parts at approximately 200% more than it would have cost to buy a new one.
Now I can't afford to pay the gas bill. Gas is overated as a heating medium anyway. . . . Isn't it Love? Where are you going with that bag? Eh? You don't even like your sister. . . . .
I have promised myself I will sell my old one to part pay for this new one. Secretly I know I won't, and it will end up on a shelf gathering dust with my other previously best things I've ever bought and must have or I'll explode.
I immediately broke it.
Please don't tell me that this is just me?
