It fills with alabaster wool the wrinkles of the road

It’s so much a part of our lives that I’m not sure it’s even “news” anymore: We’re in the middle of WINTER here in Boston.

The beginning of the end: January 24’s snow dusted our tree a bit.

 

This season has been a tricky one. We didn’t have any snow in November. My visitors at Christmas didn’t see a snowflake. Then, two weeks ago, BOOM(!!!), here it was: blizzard season. The snow has let up for no more than 48 hours at a time since, I think. Again, not really news. So why am I writing about it here?

Law School + (Snow*72″) = (Snow Days*5) = 600+ Crazed Law Students

In my unscientific analysis, the law of diminishing returns applies as law school snow days increase: First one’s fun. Second one’s  funny (ha-ha). Third one’s funny (strange). Fourth one’s absurd. Fifth one’s annoying. Sixth one better not happen. Things could get ugly.

When the blizzard hit January 27, we had fun sinking into this giant hill of pure, fluffy snow. Now, it’s an icy, gross pile of dirt and even more snow.

Today, in my first class after the most recent two-day cancellation, all the chatter was about how behind we all are, how stir-crazy we’ve been going cooped up in our (almost invariably tiny) apartments, and how much we just want to be in  class again.

That’s right: The most annoying thing about all this snow, for most of BU Law’s students, has been not being able to go to class.

What?

On Monday, February 9, I walked past this Brookline playground and found a mother ‘making’ her kid have fun by sliding down a buried slide.

My classmates and I want to learn. We want to have a schedule and stick to it. Sure, there are awful things about the snow — I’m worried for people who depend on hourly wages to get by and folks whose roofs cave in and houses flood, and I don’t know how those few students who drive in from outer suburbs are managing — but in our little sphere, this is about as disruptive as it gets.

Today, I had class on the fourth floor of the Redstone Building. I peeked out at the Charles River and saw a thick coating of snow on top of the ice.

BU has been pretty good about helping professors schedule make-up classes, but nobody likes a Saturday class. Deadlines, workflow, events, competitions, and clinical catch-up are pretty tough to reschedule on top of all that, too. Frankly, after a moment of throwing our hands up in the air, we can and will handle it.

Is there an upside to all this? I suppose: While locked up tight with the radiators clanking away, I managed to write another 13 pages of my American Journal of Law & Medicine note and get started on my Albers moot court brief (more about both of those in future blogs). My husband and I got to spend some quality chill time together, watching movies and hiking through the blizzards and snow caverns, which was great because I’ll be off coaching our regional Client Counseling team on Saturday, Valentine’s Day. I stayed up to date on all of my reading for classes. I am still a bit overwhelmed when I look at my calendar, but that’s just about par for the course at this point.

Until next time: Stay warm!

Walking by Brandon Hall in Brookline on February 9, 2015.

(The titular line is from a poem by Emily Dickinson that takes a kindlier approach to snow than I have here.)

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