My Dad's tools
I have only two of my Dad's tools. None of his home tools - nothing of note there, and few of them still exist. His work tools,
on the other hand, were unique; he carried one of these almost every day at work, and a backup on days off.
He and I didn't do much together - while we slept he worked graveyards for the slight pay increase, and when we
were awake he slept as well as he could with six noisy sons.
I did go with him once when he had to requalify, and he won a small bonus for shooting exceptionally well that day.
I'm sure it was an offhand comment for him, but when he said I brought him luck, I was beaming.
The seal on the frame and grip is an ancient symbol of loyalty: a horse defending it's fallen knight by breaking a lance,
one half over it's legs and the other in it's mouth. My Dad served his Nation as a Marine, then as a Policeman
until just before his death.