A few months ago, Steve said to me "It would be really cool to have a hatchet." I filed that information away in the 'Possible Gifts' part of my brain and pulled it out earlier this month when thinking about Valentine's Day. It wasn't a great idea, but it was an only idea. And so it became a reality.
I do want to save many animals, and I do want to conserve much land, but I don't want to interact with either. I'm not real out-doorsey. But because I love my husband, the Tadpole and I traveled to Cabela's.
Cabela's is not my kind of store. I prefer the book library to the Ammunition Library, and I like my retail space to smell better than the Great Salt Lake. (Which stinks.) But true love guided me through. Past the camo, through the Patagonia and North Face, yonder the fishing reels and miles of, what, string? to the knives. Oh such knives. A knife to kill any living thing, from bison to bumble bee. Knives for hunting on horse back, knives to hide in your boot, knives for gutting a dear, and knives for giving to your sweetheart.
There I found it. The Hatchet. It's metal. It's heavy. And the stamped leather sheath will look great right where it's designed to be worn, on a belt. It's a home run for Steve. A home run that will be hit not with a bat, but with a hatchet. Or is it an axe?