A nice possession.

This is my scalpel.

I’ve had it for nearly forty years.

I relocated it from the artwork studio of Hall Advertising in Drumsheugh Gardens, Edinburgh.

At one time an artworker skilfully used it, or one of its bedfellows, to cut my tie in half after it descended upon a piece of flat artwork he was tending to.

Everybody laughed. 

Even me. 

(It was a life lesson in getting out of the way when you’re not needed. It might even have been a lesson in micro-management.)

It sits in a cup full of Sharpies on my office desk at home and it gets used quite a lot.

Not to incise cadavers, remove stitches, perform open heart surgery, mind you. The aim of Swann Morton, its manufacturers (and possibly designers).

No, I use it to open parcels, shape paper for CD covers inserts, scrape plaque(tartare) from my teeth, slice sellotape, render blue, brown and green/yellow wires ready for electrical plug management. Little things that would be less satisfying with scissors.

I use it most frequently in the lead up to Christmas.

I have on occasion sliced small packages of skin from my fingers. But I forgive it.

Note its lustrous patina.

It’s a little treasure of mine.

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