Hands that sew and hands that type

Was trimming a signature tonight and got to thinking — we give our tools human warmth without even noticing. I call my bone folder 'she' and my awl 'the stubborn one.' Maybe the stylebook folks are right to watch their words about machines, but I'd rather live in a world that anthropomorphizes too much than one where we forget how much of ourselves goes into everything we touch. Late night thoughts from a bench covered in leather dust.