The Lopsided Keychain Era Begins

I came into the kitchen Tuesday morning to grab my badge before the early shift and found my keys on the island with a Post-it folded over them. 'For you.' That's it. That's the whole note. Underneath it was a small leather keychain, hand-stitched, clearly made with effort, and so profoundly, magnificently uneven that for a second I genuinely thought Theo had made it as a joke.

He hadn't.

The Lopsided Keychain Era Begins

That is Marcus's face. That is the face of a man who has just handed you his heart in the form of a vegetable-tanned rectangle with approximately one millimeter difference in width on each side. He stood there holding it up like he was presenting a jewel at Tiffany's. I kept my expression completely neutral and said 'I love it' and meant it so sincerely that something has clearly happened to me.

For context: two weeks ago it was mechanical keyboards. Before that, the homebrewing equipment is still in the garage, I photographed the shelf again last week, no comment, just documentation. The leather-working kit came home from the farmers market last Saturday in a paper bag like he was trying to smuggle it past customs. I saw the waxed thread and the belt-punch and thought 'oh here we go' and braced for the usual arc.

The Post-it said 'for you.' It's on my keys now.

But the keychain is on my keys. I don't know what that means yet. Maybe nothing. Maybe the same thing it always means, three weeks of enthusiasm followed by a very organized storage solution. Or maybe a man who makes you a lumpy little handmade thing on a Tuesday morning before you go to work is different from a man who just talks about his hobbies. I'll report back. The shelf isn't going anywhere.