The Lympics

Dear Readers:

We're departing from our usual MF/LL tradition of blogging 1-2 months in arrears in order to bring you live coverage of our visit to the 2010 Winter Olympic Games.

So with all due respect to the last seven weeks of family adventures, we're going to skip over all that and go flying headlong into the present.

 

This story began about 14 months ago, when, in one of the few ancillary benefits of being stuck on bedrest for two months, Lisa devoted considerable quality time online to secure accommodations at Whistler during the Games and to enter us in the ticket lottery.

 

It proved equally important to secure the coveted right to drive to Whistler during the Games.  Fears (no doubt well grounded) that Olympic traffic would grind to a halt on the twists and turns of Highway 99 prompted Vanoc to ration these passes like razor blades in 1984.  We're anticipating a rather Soviet (and unCanadian) experience as we approach the first checkpoint and try to establish our right to proceed.

For the past week, Miles has been talking very insistently about going to "the Lympics" without ever troubling himself about what the Lympics actually are.   We have similarly high expectations, without knowing quite what awaits us, either.  But we'll find out soon enough, and our faithful readers will be right there with us.