"I'm working on my next book -- you know -- the feel good book for the end of the world? I need to know how to make a fire from flint, or sticks and stones or whatever people use out in the woods."
Cabela's had a collection of fire making tools, in two places. I asked several questions. The teeny, tiny picture on the packaging left something to be desired. "You just scrape some of this stuff off, strike this part really hard, you get a spark, you're good to go." Okay, I can do that.
No. I can't. I scraped. I got a spark. Several sparks in fact. Even some really big sparks. No fire. "We're dead when we run out of matches," I said to my husband.
He comes over and strikes the stick several times. He feels the paper I've got sitting there. "What?" I asked.
"I wondered if it was wet."
"Right, because water would be an accelerant!" I yelled.
"Try dried leaves," he offered walking away.
"Don't you know people in the military you could talk to?" my niece asked.
"Yes! Your uncle, my husband the former Marine!" We looked at each other, looked at him and then back at each other.
"That's not gonna work," she said.
"Yeah, I already found that out," I mumbled.
Yes, I know others in the military, boy scouts, eagle scouts, Scout Masters but I'm still going to be dead once the matches run out.
I'm hoping the chocolate holds out 'til then.
No comments:
Post a Comment