Getting my sandals wet

Ha!

 Gotcha! 

And here you're thinking it's my BIRTHDAY that's celebrated for a whole month.

Guess again.

We're on the second leg of our thirtieth anniversary celebration, this time in Antigua, with its beautiful BLUE waters and with a sciatica-free leg. (so far)

We started off the day with an airport processional, and yes, I'm still in THAT phase, missing my Mom, thinking of walking down the aisle to that beautiful John Barry score.

Only I suddenly realized I was instructed to walk side by side with Jim so dogs could sniff us out. 

 Hey, I liked the idea that I didn't have to remove shoes in the germy Newark airport, but I was afraid the dogs would sniff SOMETHING..

That same something that makes Luke a humping lunatic every night.

The last time we were in Sandals was our honeymoon in Jamaica in 1989.  

And if you guessed that the one thing I forgot to pack to Sandals is a pair of Sandals, you'd be guessing correctly.

(It could have been worse if I made the same mistake at a resort called "Tweezers")

I miss my familiar Club Med and all the sun dances, but..and I know how bad this sounds, so forgive me in advance...I'm glad that most of the guests didn't come from abroad. I'm afraid I'll let out a single asthmatic cough and be labeled Patient Zero. Luke was coughing as we left, and now I'm convinced I'm going to have kennel cough.

What's a Karen blog without a good healthy dose of hypochondria?

We have our own butler!

We have our own pool!

(I have MY own pool..Jim's is in the back, and yes, I stole that line that James Caan said to Marsha Mason in "Chapter Two"..wanna make something of it?)

Except..

We don't.

No butler. No private pool.

There's a huge jacuzzi in the room, but once I'm in, I'll be in for the week.

There are eleven restaurants here..The dessert buffet alone should be billed as "WADS", my acronym for "weapons of Ass Destruction"

I am unpacked. I am cooled off.  I had my personal pizza lunch.

Let the fun begin