Has there ever been a more glorious January? I know that we need the rain, but nobody can complain about this incredible weather. All of my ports and hatches are open and the boat is dry and as sweet smelling as a 30+ year old trawler can get. The ONLY downside is that I can't get out on the water for a few more weeks because I had a total knee replacement on January 20 (hence, my short silence).

After two days in the hospital the doctors decided that a boat was no fit place to recover and so sent me to a skilled nursing facility in Pacifica. Sweetie gently folded me into the car and we arrived at the facility just as the sun was setting over the Pacific. I was then bundled into a wheel chair and taken to the 3rd floor where I was to share a room with 3 other women recovering from various surgeries. The fun started when the lights went out.

The old lady in the bed next to me dozed off and started yammering, "YES, YES, YES, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, no, no NO, NO, No, no" and on and on until she finally ran down and started snoring like a chain saw.

Around 1:30 am, just as I was dozing off, the ding bat in the bed catty-corner started. "Hello? Hello? I'm hungry, when is lunch, I need a bed pan, I have to poo, where is Nancy, Hello? Can I have a cheese sandwich? Can I have apple juice? Where is my newspaper? I'm freezing, I'm wet, can you bring me a cheese sandwich? Hello? Hello?" The poor old dear was confused but nobody would come to help her. I can't say that I blame them because if I had been able to get up, I might have smothered her with a pillow just to get some peace and quiet. Meanwhile, the staff seemed to be having a hootenanny in the nursing station and were totally oblivious to any requests from the patients.

Sometime around 5:00 a.m. I decided that I had had about enough and gave up on trying to sleep. The chain saw was still droning on and Miss Dinghy of 1942 still was asking for her cheese sandwich. I waited until 8:00am before I launched myself on my walker to the nurses station and asked to use the telephone.

Sweetie answered on the second ring. "GET ME THE HELL OUT OF THIS LOONY BIN!" "I'll be there in about an hour." was his reply. It was the longest hour in history. He arrived and tried to get the nurses attention to let them know that we wanted to check out. There was no help forthcoming although we waited until 10:30. Finally, I just waddled my walker to the elevator and we headed for home.

Now, what does this have to do with boating, you are asking? Everything! From the moment I stepped onto the swim platform, I knew everything was going to be ok. There are plenty of hand holds overhead and although there are steep stairs that lead below to the bedroom and the head, there are rails galore to steady myself. The head is small with no room to fall, even if I wanted too. There is nothing in the world like your own bed.

Of course I can't get up to the flying bridge yet, but we could go for a boat ride if we were desperate, although I would not like to try stepping off to tie a line. I have been out strolling on the dock with the help of my walker and it's grand to see my good neighbors enjoying this magnificent weather.

Never let anybody tell you that you can't do something. There is always a "˜work-around' and in my case, recovering on the boat from the surgery is not only less expensive, but much more harmonious and conducive to healing. At this moment I am watching the scaups and grebes diving just outside the door.

By the way, there was one more occupant in my room at the nursing home. When I asked had she survived the "˜night from hell' she replied, "Why yes, thank you. My daughter brought me a package of ear plugs." I will file that under the "Why Didn't I Think ff That" category.