Yesterday morning I sat down with my notebook and my pen and began to write a blog post. With the ever-present sounds of large consruction equipment tearing up the pasture behind my house, I began to pen my thoughts about how for the past eight years I was fortunate enough to live on 2 acres smack dab in the middle of bustling suburbia and yet I was insulated from it by this huge stretch of land behind my house. For eight years and many more before we moved here, that pasture was home to cows and an array of ducks and other water fowl who had found their way to the water tank used to keep the cattle watered as they grazed.

I wrote as I wondered how often I have taken for granted this peaceful view, how many times I didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to sit on the back patio with a cup of coffee or glass of iced tea and simply enjoy the scenery and appreciate that it was there. Sometimes you really don’t know a good thing until it’s gone, especially those things you assume will always be there.

But back to the point of this post–irony. Typically when I write something out in longhand, I’ll type it out sometime during the day, let it sit for a little while and then edit and post it here in the evening. I prefer to schedule my posts to publish at the same time every day–12:01 a.m. That didn’t happen today.

Why? Because just as I was sitting down to type up what I had written out in longhand, I lost my Internet connection. What was the reason behind the lost Internet connection? Yeah, that would be the giant backhoe that dug up our phone lines along with the pasture behind our house. Ironic? Yes, I tend to think so. But maybe not. Irony, by definition, is incongruity between the actual result of a sequence of events and the normal or expected result. So maybe my situation wasn’t so much ironic as it was unfortunate. Sort of like this song I posted awhile back…

As a public service, I have decided to add some words to the song, thereby making it ironic. (You’re welcome.)

An old man turned ninety-eight
He won the lottery and died the next day (because he accidentally poked himself in the jugular vein with the pencil he used to fill out the winning ticket)
It’s a black fly in your Chardonnay (that happened to be an albino fly, so it was white)
It’s a death row pardon two minutes too late (because the electric surge caused by the execution resulted in the phone lines going out two minutes earlier)
Isn’t it ironic … don’t you think (no, not really)

It’s like rain on your wedding day (in the Sahara desert)
It’s a free ride when you’ve already paid (for the bus)
It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take (from Bernie Madoff)
Who would’ve thought … it figures

Mr. Play It Safe was afraid to fly
He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids good-bye
He waited his whole damn life to take that flight
And as the plane crashed down he thought
‘Well isn’t this nice…’ (Okay, that actually is kind of ironic)
And isn’t it ironic … don’t you think
Repeat Chorus

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything’s okay and everything’s going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out when
You think everything’s gone wrong and everything blows up
In your face (and that is very unfortunate, but not ironic)

It’s a traffic jam when you’re already late (for your job as the head of public transportation)
It’s a no-smoking sign on your cigarette break (at the Marlboro plant)
It’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife (to cut open the boxes of spoons)
It’s meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife (who works as a pharmaceuticals rep for Ambien sleep aid)
And isn’t it ironic… don’t you think
A little too ironic… and yeah I really do think… (no, not really)
Repeat Chorus

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
Life has a funny, funny way of helping you out
Helping you out (which is nice, but not ironic)

Here’s some irony for you: Angry, white Canadian girl becomes international singing sensation with a smash hit called “Ironic”, which isn’t.

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