B found an Ulu knife in the barn at his mother's house...I just happened to want an Ulu knife. I wish I had a before picture because the knife was in extremely rough shape. Apparently it took an entire day and every tool in B's arsenal to get this cleaned up and sharpened. He went a step further and made a knife case out of selvaged wood from a cherry tree that had fallen in his yard a few years ago. He went even further and made me a knife sharpener. When he gave it to me I asked him how sharp it was, "very sharp," he said giving me a knowing look, for I have a bad habit of not respecting knives. I can't tell you the number of times I've cut myself over the years...including my tongue. Ouch!
The next morning I oiled the knife to keep it from rusting. I was being very careful, I swear I was. How sharp is the knife? Oh, yes, it is very sharp. There were blood spatters all over the kitchen sink and I think I said something like, "oh, shoot," or something like that. I texted B to tell him the knife was indeed sharp. He immediately called me and said, "you cut yourself, didn't you?" I laughed...how did he know? And I hadn't even had the knife for 12 hours.
Still, I love the knife...and the case...and the sharpener. Thanks B.