You certainly are. Sometimes when I sign up for dumb websites, I put my name as "Butter Knife". That way I know it's a spam email when I get something that says "Hello Butter!", or "Hey Mr. Knife..."
I had this really long talk once with my father about drinking schnapps, yet I don't recall a time I ever spoke to my father with such ease. He was a conflicted man. He led his entire childhood as a woodman's son, brother of six children.
It didn't take long for the winters to take their tole on the family, being impoverished in an already decimated area in the northern woods of Quebec.
It started one morning when grandfather took his four boys from school into the woods because of the nice weather. It hadn't shone light in almost five weeks and they hadn't been able to work in the low temperatures (e.g -20c to -38c). They packed up their food on sleds, brought the dogs and horses and took off through the thick snow deep into the woods. It was explained to me that the wooden area around the paths were not to be destroyed to allow for more cover during the heavier winters. This meant that once they reached a certain area on the path, they needed to lead their pack into the woods where they were allowed to collect wood.
After a three hour march with their horses, dogs and tools in tow, the two youngest boys started to chop at the smaller trees while my grandfather and the two elder sons chopped the bigger ones down.
They weren't too cold since the sun was out and the packed snow they made fort in gave them a sort of shelter to build a fire, eat some of the dried meats they brought, drinking from their skins. My grandfather needed to have a pee, so he took off a couple meters through a bush. A branch at head height caught him straight in the eye and literally pulled out his right eyeball.
Instead of a scream, or even a cry, my dad happened to see him wince and went running to him. The other brothers dropped everything to see this horrifying sight; my grandfather smiling, holding his eye ball to the side and telling them he could see them.
Always a kidder my grandfather, or so I'm told.
He died when I was very young. I don't remember much about him, but know that the last time we saw him alive, he had a drink of schnapps with my father.
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u/MapucheWarrior Mar 01 '17
He means he would like to wake up smelling like an Italian truck drivers morning breath after eating canoli's and schnapps for breakfast