thank you for your service, fiskars eight inch non-stick titanium softgrip scissors

you lived, ready-to-hand, in the hone slot of my knife block and together, for the last six years and seventy five days, we have opened bags and boxes, snipped ties and tape, shaped paper and cloth. sometimes though, i asked more of you, we trimmed the woody stems of herbs, we pruned the branches of plants, and as your final task, we cut through the rib cage of a spatchcocking spring chicken. i tried to repair your broken handle, but it was not to be. for now your slot sits empty. you will be missed

happy trails dynasoft nitrel v4 trail

i forgot to set a reminder to check on you so we just kept walking until there were holes in your soles and i noticed the mud on my socks. together we found an axe half buried in the river bank and went a hundred miles farther than any shoes i have ever owned. thank you

thank you for lighting my way for these last two and a half years, philips 9003 standard replacement headlight bulbs. without you, i would have been immobilized by the darkness

cracked kettle omen or i don't know what you got up to last night, medelco borosilicate glass whistling hob kettle, but i hope you had fun. you were intact yesterday, but this morning you were cracked like my skull on a new year's morning in the late nineties. you will be missed

the last egg or i ate two eggs and i only had one egg left then i bought two mangoes a love story

i remember damage or i finally understood that black ice is just ice that you didn't realize was ice until it is too late all causal perspective and not anything to do with light at all

that ice. it hid in the shadows. it hid in the light. it crept and it lurked. it made me slide. it made me crash. they are devil ice.