It's about time

Harcelement a lecole. Oui, il existe. Dans tous les milieux. Je suis contente qu'enfin le sujet est aborde par les medias.

Vivaldi G minor, 1st movement

The first time in public in over a year... well done!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1XKFElyi_Lg

Snow!



 

 

Yesterday marked the 35th anniversary of the Blizzard of '78. I remember this snowstorm in particular because it hit the Monday before the week of Feb. vacation, and we were very happy to have all the extra days to spend loafing on the sofa reading, and later, sledding down the backyard hill. The storm made Massachusetts a mess, though. Mike Dukakis, who was the governor then, spent so much time at the local TV studio that it seemed that he hadn't slept for days. Maybe he didn't. The snow came down so quickly, and it was so heavy that the snowplows were unable to keep up, and thousands of cars got stuck on Rte. 128. Impassioned pleas went out for people living near the highways to open up their homes to the people who were stuck in their cars caught in a form of the Prisoner's dilemma: death by hypothermia or by exhaust poisoning.

 

At that time, there was only one main electric line that came into our small town. It seemed like every storm that came through managed to crash a tree or two onto the line, and each time, we lost power for a couple of hours or more. Because of the particular violence of this blizzard, I remember that the power went out for several days. It wasn't too difficult for our family as my parents had a good stack of wood, and the stove ran on gas. The biggest pain was keeping the water bottles full in order to be able to use the toilet. That, and having to trudge out to the barn, snow stinging my cheeks and freezing my eyelashes, in order to make sure that the horses had adequate hay and running water. The neighbors, on the other hand, only had a fireplace, so they came over to have hot food after the first day or two. 

 

That February vacation, we were supposed to go to France for an exchange trip with the Lycee Classique et Moderne in Champigny sur Marne. Our flight was postponed until the roads and the airport were re-opened for traffic. The airport opened to traffic before Route 1 did, so we left our parents at the highschool and took a bus to Logan. The rumor spread quickly that there was a snowstorm going on in France -  we didn't completely believe it, yet once we finally arrived in Paris, we did find out that the snowstorm had come over with us. We laughed at the four or five inches that seemingly paralyzed the country. Non-drivers that we were, we didn't know that Paris didn't (and doesn't) have sanding and salting equipment, nor does it have snowplows. And we didn't know that ice was treacherous. Nonetheless, we all had a great time throwing snowballs, and trudging around Paris in the slush.

 

I was reminded of that trip last week as Paris, yet again, was under the snow. There were a few intrepid souls who braved the flakes. Some used an umbrella, some tried to keep ahead of the falling snow - cleaning off the sidewalk with squeegee-type instruments. I even saw someone who needed to get somewhere - he looked like a pro on his bike. None of the buses were running, so maybe it was easier than it looked. 

 

One of the short-lived blessings from the snow was the relative quiet. The buses were not running, cars were few, and the noise that I heard came from the joy in children's voices. And the church bells. I don't usually hear bells, but they were ringing clearly, from a half mile away. I closed my eyes for a minute, and thought of life in the 18th century.

I wonder if children in the 18th century liked to play in the snow like we do today. Were they even allowed to? They certainly liked to ice skate, just as we do today.