Not the Sharpest Knife in the Drawer

     For many years I looked forward to hunting season, not because I hunt. I don't. I don't even particularly like wild meat. I looked forward to hunting season because it was the only time I could count on getting my knives sharpened. A sharp knife is not only handy for hunting, but essential for butchering, so while Reed was sharpening his knives, he would sharpen mine. Will gave me a couple types of knife sharpeners when he lived at home but, though I followed the directions, I didn't seem to get the point.
     When Reed brought home an electric knife sharpener from Cabela's, I hoped it would be user friendly enough for even me. How different could it be from a kitchen appliance? And the desire to have sharp knives whenever I wanted was keenly felt. I could not get as good an edge on a blade as Reed does with it, but at least I could make the sharp side cut better than the dull side. This time Will wanted to borrow my sharpener. He recently returned it so, while it was sitting on the counter, I skimmed the quick start guide and determined it was set up to sharpen scissors. My kitchen shears were getting dull, so I sharpened those along with five other pairs of scissors. But when I tried to open a bag of frozen vegetables for dinner, my newly sharpened kitchen shears could not cut through the plastic bag.
     As it turns out, I was one space off in the directions grid. I was "sharpening" shears using the wrong guide installed the wrong way and, probably, the wrong sanding belt. I had just dulled six pairs of scissors. It didn't strike me until much later that an intelligent person would have tested the sharpness of the first pair before moving on to five more. The next day, Reed managed to make them functional again without making any of the cutting remarks he was entitled to. I guess the only thing I should put to the grindstone is my nose. When it comes to honing, I am not the sharpest knife in the drawer.
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