There comes a point at the Games when the heavy lifting is just about over and one can safely set his sights on getting back to the US of A. I get to see Anne for the first time in a month (FaceTime not included) and I’ll get to see my dad for the first time in nearly six weeks.
And if the Albarinos and the Yusteins and the Syphers ever decide to vacate 7 Mills Road in Maine, I will head north for a lobster and a nap. Not necessarily in that order.
It has become a bit of a tradition for me to take a photo with a Nunan’s Lobster bib. I did it first in Beijing, then London and this year’s version was taken last night at the women’s beach volleyball final during the medal ceremony.
They are now hanging in the Joe Ward Olympic Memorial Booth, where coincidentally they sat my nephew (Vyseguy, to the veteran bloggers).
I was at the track the other day and saw the qualifying round for the women’s pole vault. And I happen to know a young woman who competes in pole vault for her school. These are for you, Christa.









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