A couple of weekends ago I did a Wilderness First Aid course.

I hadn't redone my first aid in quite a while and Jason and I were out and about a couple of months ago when he slipped and hurt himself and I realized if he'd hurt himself seriously, rather than just bruising his knee and spraining an ankle a little, I wouldn't confidently or comfortably remember or know what to do.

So I signed up for a course.

One of the things they suggested we bring was a fire starter kit.  Well... all my camping gear (and so much more) is still in my van which is still not home, so I messaged Jason and said "what should I get here... like... flint?"

Jason said yeah, but that he'd check with his "camping expert" friend. 

Who came back with what I thought was a hilarious answer.

"Uh... tell her to buy a Bic lighter?"

So there you go.  Firestarter kit = uh use a lighter?

Although I did also buy a flint thing for good measure.

I also found a whatchamacallit... folding knife thing?  (There's probably a proper term for it...) And Jason wanted to show me how to sharpen it so we also bought a ... uh.. stone?  And when I went to pick up the knife, I cut myself.  Or it cut me I dunno, I just felt really dumb in that moment.  It wasn't bad, just a knick of my nail and a bit of finger but I felt like I'm not even capable of picking up a damn knife, who am I to own one?

Jason and his friend(s) said that that's what knives do.  I guess there's some kind of (camping?) knife lore that your knife picks you by cutting you and the sooner it does the more your knife it is.  So there you go.

I like to think it's true, but if not, it made me feel a lot better.