There are so many things I don't understand about this little universe.
While learning how to prepare tacking threads, my teacher expressed the need for scissors. I packed my shears (as you do), so I retrieved them from my bag, and handed them over.
After chomping through the hank of threads I made a point of asking if they were indeed the correct scissors to own.
He examined the tool in his hands, opened and closed them a couple of times, looked down the blade and then proceeded to raise them to his scalp, and swipe the blades across the back of his head.
I winced, expecting blood, or worried that maybe that film "Bird Box" was becoming a reality. When I opened my eyes he was examining the blades again. He snapped them shut and handed them back to me, handle first.
"Yup, those'll do."
Some day I'll learn all of his secrets.
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