Even though you find a new blog post here almost every day, often chronicling what we’ve been up to, a lot of stuff we do doesn’t get mentioned. Things I say don’t rate a picture. Photos we take aren’t published.
I’ve included a gallery today with some examples.
Yesterday I made a reference to to some guy selling wolf pups. (Yes, there was a full-grown wolf-dog laying on the front seat.) I didn’t say anything about driving through Harrison and seeing the Hudson’s Supermarket smoker in operation, nor did I describe the entertainment I got from perusing the big bulletin board at Miller Hardware.
I didn’t mention that Carolyn’s Razorback Ribs had a serious fire Tuesday night and will be closed for repairs until further notice.
Absent from Monday’s post was that on our way back from The Mountain we hit the buffet at Western Sizzlin’. Yeah, I put on a big ol’ feed bag (pictured).
Y’know, stuff like that.
Today Deb and I are spending a relatively lazy autumn Thursday at the campground — a little of this, a little of that. I replaced the 9V battery in our biometric safe. Acknowledging our transition from three lives to two, I did an audit of our keys — a bigger job than it sounds like, I assure you.
I threw out a pair of shoes. I hate doing that sort of thing.
Right before we left on our journey last May, Deb surprised me with a pair of slip-on Skechers intended to be shoes I’d wear around camp. Not only did they become my go-to at the campsite, but I found them to be the most comfortable choice for driving the motorhome.
They saw all kinds wear in all kinds of weather. Today, 18 months later, the uppers were still in great shape but the soft soles were worn the hell out. It was time for them to go.
It shouldn’t surprise you (and it probably won’t) that I replaced them with an identical pair of Skechers.
There’s something to be said for sticking with what works. I’m a big believer in that. Chasing bargains, fads and fashion doesn’t work for me, and change for the sake of change is idiotic. I know, I’m talking about a pair of knock-around loafers here, but the principle is the same — I don’t waste time fixin’ what ain’t broke.
I grew up in an era when every American man and boy carried a pocketknife. Pretty much every farm wife, too. Companies like Buck, Case and Schrade placed gleaming displays of their products at hardware stores — wood-framed cases with glass fronts and velvet backdrops, a vivid memory from my childhood.
Those displays disappeared over the years, remaining only in the rare mom-and-pop store. A Case case survives at Miller Hardware in Yellville.
I don’t need another knife. Most of mine are 750 miles away in storage right now, but I have several of my favorites with me, so I’m good. While at Miller’s the other day I bought one anyway.
It’s a Case four-inch trapper with orange (natch) synthetic scales and brass liners. The full-size trapper is one of my favorite slipjoint patterns, with a slender clip and a more robust spey.
This particular knife was manufactured in Bradford, Pennsylvania in 2021.
The steel is Case’s standard-issue Tru-Sharp “surgical steel.” For the record, I’m not a steel snob. Either a material works or it doesn’t. I own knives in many different steels, from pedestrian to exotic, mass-produced to hand-forged, and the low-end 420HC stainless Case uses always has treated me well — it’s easy to maintain, takes a great edge and is decently tough. It’s all I need in an everyday-carry knife or a woods companion.
Utility meets nostalgia — there’s just something about a pocketknife, two or three blades and nothing more. Since we hit the road I’ve been carrying a Victorinox Tinker, occasionally a Leatherman Rebar, and the extra tools definitely are handy. Still, I’ve felt the need to get back to something simpler.
Advancing toward our life on The Mountain probably has a lot to do with that. I’m sure that this Case trapper will serve me well there.
After four wearying months in Ohio, followed by a 106-day ordeal selling the house, Deb and I were pretty well beaten down. I’m pleased to report that our spirit is returning. It’s a good feeling.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.