Cat, the carpenter

I awoke to quite possibly the hottest day of the year.

By 9:00 the fierce Midi sun drew droplets of perspiration from anyone foolish enough to stand in its gaze.

By 11, a thick haze hung over the bay. All who live here and all who came on vacation fell into the only two activities logical for such a hot day: half followed their dogs’ examples and crawled into their tile-floored bedrooms, crept into bed and slept off the heat; the other half put on their skimpiest bathing suits and survived off of quick dips in the Med and hours under shaded umbrellas on Pampelonne.

I, of course, was engaged in other activities. Today, I was locked in a room with no air, pulling up carpet – by hand – and scraping off glue – on my hands and knees. I spent the day trying my muscles further than they’d ever been tried before; tasting salt on my lips as I brushed away the sweat with swollen hands, damp rags, and dry tongue.

If only I was kidding.

See, Tony called me this morning with an opportunity to work, and I heeded its call. We were charged with replacing the carpets in two rooms in the crew apartment.

After six long hours, I stare at my blistered knuckles and worn fingertips and sighed. Just days ago, when I was polishing the boat, I found myself complaining to Tony that the green chemicals were wearing my skin away. I showed him my lime colored palms to prove my point. Of course, just as he went to examine my wounds, the captain walked by.

The captain gave me an amused smirk. We had already bonded; we both understood each other by now, even if Tony didn’t know it yet.

So, in my defense, Tony grabbed my brittle hands and showed them to his boss. “These are typist hands, you see? She’s a thinker, not a worker.”

The captain smiled politely. “Well today she’s worked quite hard, and quite well.” He gave me a wink. “Her hands are capable of much more than writing.”

That said, what possessed Tony to think I was a carpenter is beyond me.

But so far, we’ve ripped up the old carpet in one of the rooms, cleaned the perfectly decent tiles beneath it, cut the new carpet to fit the room, and laid the basework to glue down the new rug tomorrow.

And to think, after that, we still have a whole 'nother room to go.

Good God.