We're remodeling our kitchen. We wash our dishes in the bathtub. We've been saying for a week, hey, let's just move onto the boat, where we'll have a kitchen and be perfectly comfortable. The wind has been from every which way lately in San Francisco, making for a choppy, surgey mess. In the best of times my marina is rough, but it was particularly rough over the weekend. The rocking wasn't so bad, but the surge was terrible. Every time the boat surged, the dock lines creaked, squeaked, and groaned. Every time there was squeaking and groaning, the dog sat bolt upright and jumped out of the v-berth. So, we cooked some good meals, but never got any sleep.