A day in the workshop

Every day in the workshop starts a little differently.

Some mornings I arrive with a clear plan—a bag to cut, straps to prepare, pieces waiting to be stitched. Other days the plan changes halfway through. And sometimes I simply start by looking around and asking what needs doing most.

Running a small business means wearing every hat. In a single day I might be sourcing leather, cutting and preparing, stitching, finishing edges, packing orders, updating stock online, answering messages from clients, or heading out to deliver something locally.

Some days run smoothly. Everything clicks and the work flows. Other days are full of interruptions, and it feels like I’ve been busy all day but haven’t quite moved forward.

Being neurodivergent adds its own layer to that rhythm. Some days my mind jumps between things, and other days it settles deeply into the work—where time passes quietly at the bench without me noticing.

These days, the workshop feels a little quieter too.
Cyrus used to be right here with me—keeping an eye on things, demanding his spot, part of the daily rhythm. I still find myself glancing over, half expecting him to be there.

But despite the unpredictability, I wouldn’t trade this.

This is work that suits the way I think—working with my hands, solving problems, figuring things out as I go, and slowly turning a piece of leather into something that will travel out into the world with someone else.

Lara—Keeper of the Croft

It’s not always tidy. It’s not always predictable.

But it’s exactly where I want to be.

Lara—Keeper of the Croft