Finally, the Caymans. Ouch!

This is my first blog post. EVER.  So cut me some slack on the formatting, picture orientation, spelling, etc.

It was a long day. It started with Karin being grumpy on her couch, it ended with me bleeding all over our kitchen floor.  In a foreign country, even.  Let me splain.

The shuttle driver (Connie), was in a pretty good mood despite the early hour.  Karin, however, seemed a little grumpy;  maybe due to the early hour?

We had set our alarm for 3:30 am.  Until yesterday, I'm not sure that Ann even knew there WAS a 3:30 am.  Connie had said that we needed to leave at 4am, so this just gave us time to shower and load up.  All three suitcases.  I had originally planned on doing a load of laundry and only taking 2, but we were tired, so we just packed all of the dirty clothes in a trash bag, scented of course, and took a load of dirty clothes to the caymans.  The trash bag is one of those nice smelling ones; the clothes weren't scented.  Well, not in a good way.  I had just run 16 miles that morning, and the clothes I ran in, even the shoes, were in that bag.  I bet the Transportation Security Administration LOVED going through that one.  They left the little note so we would know they had been there.

15 hours later, we get to the hotel.  Condo.  Timeshare.  Whatever.  We immediately go to the swim up bar, and in 1 hour consume 8 mixed drinks.  Mostly rum runners, I think.  As we were leaving, there's an umbrella stand that's supposed to be underneath a table, that's not.  And it's cleverly camouflaged in the same color as the pool deck.  So, I walked right into it.  It's only ankle high, and it was dark.  And I was drunk.  I totally blame them for the blood that was shed that night.

Ann:  Should we go get you a tetanus shot?
Me:  Nah, I've had my booster within the last 10 years, so I'm good.
Translation:  I'm not going to waste my vacation time looking for a doctor and getting a shot, even though I have NO IDEA when my last tetanus booster shot was.

And, what's the deal with all the chickens?  That'll be another post.  If I don't end up with tetanusitis, rendered unable to type.


  1. at least it wasn't your funky toe.

  2. I was just talking about your toes the other day. Is that kind of like when your nose itches, someone is thinking of you? When someone mentions your feet, your toes do something to add more "character"?

  3. Andy!!! You know how to READ??? AND WRITE???? Holy cow! I feel very certain that the eight or so drinks you consumed had nothing to do with this accident.....right.
    Also, I get that you hurt one or two of those toes, but what is with the big one? Got an excuse for his funkiness?
    Glad you found the Caymans this time.