Spring has sprung a couple weeks early here in D.C. The daffodils and crocuses are in full bloom and the buds on the trees look ready to pop.

Yesterday I celebrated the arrival of warm weather with a bike ride to Eastern Market. The impression I got from many of the vendors was one of joy that crowds were back on a regular basis.

Today I broke out the capris and sandals and walked down to Georgetown. I bought some t-shirts and a set of knitting needles for an upcoming project and spent an hour down on the Potomac with a slice of pizza and a soda and a book. I’m tempted to whip up a batch of iced tea, but since the weather forecasters believe we’ll be back in the 40s later this week, I suppose that might be premature…

Tonight we’ve been invited to a friend’s for dinner, so I’m off to prepare a dessert — chocolate cream puffs.

Thursdays means it’s time to think back on the beauty of the last week:

1. Sam and Alexis got married six months ago, but if you spend any time with them you really pick up on the fact that they still totally get a kick out of saying “my wife” or “my husband” when speaking of each other. It’s cute to see two people who are so in love.

2. Growing up, my brother’s favorite meal was chicken, rice, and broccoli (also known as Chicken Divan). He wasn’t at my folks’ this weekend when Mum made a batch, but we thoroughly enjoyed it in his honor.

3. Today the National Park Service announced their best guess as to when the cherry blossoms along the Tidal Basin will be in peak bloom. A number of friends have suggested they might come visit during that time, so it’s exciting to be able to provide them with info. (It’s March 27-April 1, the first week of the Cherry Blossom Festival, by the way.)

Today’s horoscope, as written by me: “Spring is just around the corner — and you know which one. Stand still and the groundhog might fall back asleep. But get moving and flowers will bloom in your wake.”

Thanks to Karen (and Harry and Ron) for the inspiration for today’s post.

Jury duty officially ended for me yesterday when we delivered our verdict to the court, and I have been released from my vow of secrecy.

The case was a criminal one, with the U.S. government accusing the defendent of robbing, injuring, and attempting to kill another man.

The alleged premise:

The victim arrives at a residential parking lot at 4:30 a.m. to join three pals in a craps game. One of these acquaintances asks to borrow money and is rebuffed. He and then a second fellow leave the scene and the victim and the fourth guy keep playing. A little while later, someone comes up behind him and slashes his throat. He flips the person and is surprised to discover that it’s the pal. The fellow who left with him is also there and there may or may not have been an allusion to a gun and a death threat. The pal continues to slash the victim until the victim, fearing for his life, decides to pretend he is dead. The pal and the other fellow (guy #4 took off as soon as the fight began) empty the victim’s pockets and leave. Some time later the victim wanders off six or seven blocks to the home of a woman he knows, who calls 911 on his behalf. He is taken to the hospital, where it is noted that his blood alcohol content level is .2193. Several gashes are stapled and he is operated on to repair damage to his intestines. The next morning (and two evenings later) he is interviewed by the police.

In the first interview he tells them what happened and identifies his attacker by name. Two days later the detective stops by again and the victim says that he was wrong about the identity of his assailant — and later picks him out from a group of shots provided by the police.

The defendent is then picked up by the police and his home is searched. A large amount of money, possibly totalling the amount stolen from the defendent, is found, but nothing that directly relates him to the scene of the crime.

There were several flaws with the case:

1. Most of the evidence presented merely corroborated the fact that the victim had been severely injured. Only the victim’s testimony and the detective who questioned him had any real relevance to the case.
2. The victim changed his story to officials several times. Generally, the crux of the story remained consistent, but certain details changed or evolved over time — including the identity of his attacker. During this trial, the victim asserts he changed details over time because he wanted the defendent to be freed so he could seek his own revenge against him. It was not clear as to why he decided to point police to the defendent when he did if that had been the case. It was also pointed out that the defendent had not wanted to testify — especially to the grand jury who bound the case over to trial — and that he had been subpoenaed to force him to do so.

   As an avid reader, I understand the problem that an unreliable and reluctant narrator presents. Unfortunately, in a story, you have an author there to provide information in between the lines and secondary characters against whom you can test the narrator’s assertions; sometimes in real life, however, no such opportunities are afforded you, and you just have to work with the evidence that’s put in front of you.

3. The hospital reported that the defendent had a high BAC level at the time he was brought in. Perhaps because I’m not a drinker I don’t have a firm grasp on how clear-headed you would be if you were that drunk, but nearly three times the legal driving level seems pretty high to me.

   According to the University of Oklahoma Police Department’s Police Notebook Blood Alcohol Content Calculator:

   0.20 BAC: Feeling dazed/confused or otherwise disoriented. May need help to stand/walk. If you injure yourself you may not feel the pain. Some people have nausea and vomiting at this level. The gag reflex is impaired and you can choke if you do vomit. Blackouts are likely at this level so you may not remember what has happened.

   We didn’t have this analysis (or any other analysis) to go on, but it did seem to me that in the middle of the night, working by dim street lights, that your brain might simply recollect the face of someone you’d seen recently after the adreneline wore off from being attacked. But maybe that’s just not so. Maybe your brain would still imprint the correct face on your psyche.

4. Other than the victim’s inconsistent testimony, there was nothing we were told that placed the defendent at the scene that night. He did live nearby, but so, presumably, did many others. On the other hand, I believe the defendent had been in custody for almost a year, so there clearly was something going on that we weren’t being informed of.

The defense chose not to present any witnesses or evidence, which while certainly its prerogative (and a smart tactical maneuver), doesn’t make me feel great about the verdict I was forced to render. (Watching Ally McBeal makes me suspicious of those whose defense attorneys choose not to put them or anyone else on the stand.) But without a stronger case made on the part of the prosecutor and without stronger evidence than was put forward, I felt there were reasonable doubts about the identity of the attacker. I felt it was entirely plausible that the defendent could have been the person who attacked the victim. But I also felt that the victim could have been confused.

After a few hours (over two days) of hashing things over, the jury came to the unanimous decision to declare the defendent not guilty on all charges due to our doubts about the case.

My civic duty — and my greater responsibility to the law — has been upheld. Sitting on a jury wasn’t as exciting or as interesting as Ally McBeal or other tv shows have led me to believe, but that’s the problem with reality. I felt bad about the whole thing. True, the system worked the way it is set up to. But I can’t help but wonder if justice really was served, or if it was merely taken advantage of. And there’s precious little I can do either way.

Seriously. Since Eric Mangini was named head of the New York Jets, I’ve been wondering when Sports Illustrated would do a story on the little liberal arts college with the big sports cred. The Hartford Courant is no Sports Illustrated, but at least someone is finally sitting up and taking notice: “Wesleyan Grads Excel — But In Professional Sports?”

This was supposed to be a weekend of relaxation: we were headed to Boston for a concert with some friends and then Rudi would head north to ski while I headed down to Connecticut to visit the family and maybe some friends.

Friday morning dawned and I immediately knew I was in trouble. The tickle in the back of the throat was becoming a full-on cold. I went back to sleep, took some cold meds, and then slept through the entire state of Maryland.

As we reached Boston, it was time to replenish the medicine, but I could tell things were not looking great. I spent the entire KT Tunstall concert (she was amazing, btw!) curled up on a sofa on the balcony of the theater, feeling hot and achy. By the middle of the night I was waking up every ten minutes to pull the covers back up to my chin because my body was under the impression that Sam and Alexis’ spare bedroom was freezing. It wasn’t, but my fever had spiked.

I was okay the next morning, but by the time I caught up with my folks at the Holyoke mall, I was slipping downward again, fighting off chills and hot flashes. Mum and Dad tucked me under blankets in Gramma’s sitting room and let me doze away the afternoon.

Last night we watched In Her Shoes, which was charming in a way that belied its box office reception, while eating pizza in front of a crackling fire.

Today I started to feel a bit better — in time to have one of Dad’s cranberry scones, some of Mum’s yummy Chicken Divan, and a piece of Gramma’s coffee cake and to open some fun birthday presents from Mum and Dad.

But feeling better is not being well, and I was asleep in the car before we were ten minutes down the road. Luckily, we were home by midnight, so after an hour of putting things away, reading the mail and email, feeding the cats, and winding down, I’m headed to bed.

Back to jury duty in the morning!