C'est Freud

As I shovelled our walk out from a foot of snow yesterday morning I had pause to reflect upon the silent and peaceful atmos. a good dump of snow brings. Given the rarity of serious snow hereabouts, I do not often have the chance to reflect upoon this. But reflect on it I did, as I again shovelled our walk out from a foot of snow this morning before work, although the meditative aspect of the exercise had admittedly worn off by then.

I am also enjoying a little bit of mental freedom today. My home-lobotomy kit arrived and, but for some new twitches and total bladder incontinence, I feel great! Wet, but great. Today was supposed to be day 1 of a 10-day, then 14-, maybe 15-day jury trial of a personal injury claim. This would have been my first. There have been, in my 5 years with this firm, numerous opportunities for me to run or second a jury trial- jury fees have been paid, trial books prepared, experts notified and subpoenas served - and on each occasion something has come up immediately before the trial, at the commencement of the trial, or part way into the trial that has made the trial wither on the vine and die diee DIIEEE! I am referred to affectionately by colleagues in litigation as the "Kiss of Death to the Jury System". As with each time before it, this time when the file settled, I felt an admixture of emotions: relief, frustration, elation, peevishness. A lot of work goes into preparing for these things and, even though the client gets to resolve its risk at a price of its choosing, it is trite to say I'd like to go to trial and win, or, since we'd just be arguing dollars, not lose too much.

This fine weather also affords this correspondent the opportunity to contemplate the inevitable decay of the snow from its present pristine beauty and silence to a grey and sloppy menace; the ability of pachyderms to capture the essence of ice sports in but a few incisive brushstrokes; and my gratitude for this weather system. It's good for business.

P-man.