In a romantic gesture, Cowboy reached out a clutched hand filled with .....something, and with sincere love in his voice, said, "Here."
You might imagine there was violin music playing while champagne chilled on a table set with china, silver and crystal. Sorry...not so much. He's not much of a romantic actually.
The contents of his hand? A pocketknife!! I now have a real and useful tool .... except today I can't remember what I've done with it. OH NO!! Please don't tell him. His tools are VERY important to him.
Yesterday, though, I proudly and somewhat dramatically removed it from my (purple) jacket pocket and skillfully snapped open the blade as if I had always been accustomed to "pocketknifery." In Cowboy's plain view I, with surgeon-like precision, cut the plastic wrapping from a bale of haylage. Later at the hay feeder, I confidently cut through the four pieces of twine...with lightning speed. He was clearly speechless and perhaps a little moved...probably hadn't seen such natural ability in a novice.
Then waiting until he looked away, I examined the knife to figure out how to close it....why didn't THAT come as naturally? I have handled pocketknives before....awkwardly, yes. Done! I got it closed and he wasn't able to read on my face that I was, albeit momentarily, unsure of my pocketknifing abilities. Now I'm semi-pro. Can't say that I'm professional yet...I might go pro tomorrow...if I can find the knife!!
Ps...I found those 5 pounds I lost a couple months ago...or rather, they found me. Like Bo Peep's sheep: I left them alone and they came home.
+insert booing and hissing here+. haha
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