As I was typing my post earlier , I looked at my hands. Each of those crevices in my hand were filled with grease, dirt... something like that. I remember when I used to hold my grandmothers hand she always said, "why are you hands so rough?"
"It is called work, Nana."
As a kid, I remember my dad coming in from the garage. He was a doctor, and would quickly be called in for surgery. My mom would say, "Honey, you can't go into surgery with your hands looking like that!" Dad would do his best to rid his hands of the grease and gunk that kept his spirit alive. I guess they've come out with better "hand cleaners" for grease monkeys, buy it didn't exist then. The best he could do was tell mom, "I'll be wearing gloves, no one will notice."
Hands can tell a lot about a person!