Blog, brog, glog

We have 15 mins to kill before our taxi arrives, so just about time to move from weblog to braglog - not sure if that's a brog or a glog.

The flight over was fine. Oakley was an angel until the last few minutes when he chose to vomit all over his mother in spectacular style. Given the restrictions of the seat belt signs and the surprise element, I just sat and endured the rather gruesome sensation of sick soaking through your underwear. I forgot about sick bags. Quent exclaimed how it was only about the third time Oakley had been sick in his life. I wondered if he would notch up a few more instances once we start 7 days on a boat.

Anyway, we have now spent 2 days in a lovely hotel on a beautiful, palm-fringed beach. Oakley has had the pool more or less to himself and hovers near the steps, greating visitors with a cheery "hello" - like a miniature, chirpy bouncer. When he moves, he moves fast up and down the pool with just a slender rubber ring and a proud dad swimming alongside.

Antigua has fewer than 100,000 inhabitants and Oakley has charmed a good proportion while we've been here. Today it's off to the BVIs to make a few more friends and collect the yacht.

You've all been so kind and supportive through our recent ups and downs. I felt it was only fair to continue the update. Please keep the positive vibes and the health prayers coming, but feel free to abandon any other sympathetic tendancies for the next 14 days - we are in Paradise.