Then off to see Judy, my Physical Terrorist. She is trying some wild new shit to help the knees continue their journey to kneedom. Pokey things.
Pokey things attached to electrodes.
A lot of this is just to help the soft tissue of the knees, which was quite content working with a very bowlegged me, wrap its mind around being attached to a straight-legged guy. 10 months out from knee replacement now and I am pretty darned happy with them. Better all the time.
Back at the shop Cricket continues work on BOB2 and BOB3.
The great aluminum dory gets ready for a trailer ride home with its repaired woodwork.
The triplets. Fraternal, not identical. BOB3 is the closest– nineteen feet long with a sixty-inch wide bottom. Next is BOB2, same length, but with a 54″ bottom. Farthest away is BOB1 at 18’4 with a 54″ bottom.
Cricket, Zasha, and I all agreed BOB1 was by far the sexiest looking boat and BOB3 was a bit of a dog. Later over way too many beverages, Dennis, Sarah and I agreed even more emphatically. We all hoped Bruce would pick BOB1.