My paternal grandfather died when I was very young, but I grew up using his tools and trying to get to know this machinist and draftsman through the things he used. 

A few years ago I was going through an old toolbox of his, and this little scrap of brass tumbled out from under a drawer. As I turned it over in my hand I recognized what it was and loved the personality it brought with it. 

Like any good craftsperson, I imagine that my grandpa was testing out a new engraving tool to get a sense for how it moved and handled. He carved whatever came to mind—a robin, say—but couldn’t stop there. With a giggle to himself (I hope) he finished off the piece with a little pile of poo. 

As we pursue precision in our work, we can’t lose sight of the humor, joy, and humanness that make the work special and worthwhile.