Yet another item I didn't know I had:
This pocket knife came from Camp Tuscarora where I went many summers both as a camper and later as a staff member. I was there in one from or fashion from about 1989 to 2001 and at no point during that span do I remember buying a crappy silver pocket knife.
Its condition reminds me of the knives of all the kids in my wood carving classes: dull, rusty and loose action. The kids that would inevitably make the nurse at the first aid hut hate me.
Was it my fault they wouldn't listen to me when I told them to sharpen their knives?
And not cut towards themselves?
And not to carve by flashlight at 2am?
No!
Fate: Trash (For the good of the children)
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