I recently cast eyes on a kukri or Gurkha knife. There used to be one in our house. All my dad's brothers were in the army or similar (they also all drove lorries at some point - my dad did neither) and I guess an uncle in the Welsh Guards came across the knife and brought it home for my dad. It's really an ornament but obviously could do damage and on one occasion I remember my dad using it to cut down a tree or branch.
I must have been five or six (we had not long moved house I recall). Anyway, my mother wanted a clothes line prop. This was a fairly long bit of wood with a V at the end. Now understand that I am a real townie and my dad never took me fishing or hunting or anything like that (although he may have done some such at some point when he was younger). So one Sunday morning I accompany him down to the woods. There are still plenty of wooded areas in my home town (Croesyceiliog, Cwmbran) although there were more then and I think the place where we ended up has now been built over (Snowdon Court?). I don't remember much but we went into the woods and found what we were looking for. My dad hacked into the required prop and then (best bit of all) we carried it home between us (at least that's how I remember it, I was probably not contributing much) to my mother who was delighted at her new line prop. That thing lasted for quite a while until new ideas like rotary clothes driers and so on came in. My dad has been dead a few years now and my mam much longer but it's fond memories like that one that keep their memory alive for me. Barely a day goes by without me thinking of them and all sorts of things can trigger a memory such as the knife above. How God blessed me giving me two parents for so long.