Easter irony

Sometimes, one wonders just how existence gets itself where it does. This will possibly make no sense at all and is very logically flawed (since i have not finished my first cuppa tea yet)...

The following things combined to make up my pre-Easter week:
* seeing flamingos in the wild in France
* discovering that I do not like brawn (which is hogshead cheese in American, I think -- it doesn't taste horrible, but it is bouncy. blegh!)
* house-cleaning as if it were the most commonplace thing in the world in a 14th-century church, which is my pet
* being locked out of my house (briefly) in a sleet storm (and loving it -- because i am odd)
* getting the response, 'Of course we are going' to a Southern-belle query as to whether the large snowflakes outside might indicate bad road conditions, danger, and the need to rush out and stock up on SPAM (they have that in this country for some reason; and it must be popular because the shelf section is so large and is even sometimes in the end display (!) eek.)
* driving through 4 or 5 snow flurries between Norwich and Cardiff
* seeing snow flurries between the most brilliant blue skies ever
* stopping for a Grande Vanilla Latte from Starbucks at the services (b-a-d Bruner, feeding monopolies, but c'est ci bon!)
* listening to 'Sweet Home Alabama' whilst crossing the border into Wales
* having Water Rat's Picnic read to me by a very good 6-year-old Irish phonetician
* teaching precious Irish children how to make a horse noise and how to say, 'My name is of no concern to you whatsoever!'
* meeting the Cockney Buddha and his missus for a good chinwag

It all combined to make for an acutely existential sense of awareness. It amused me, and I rather liked it :)