"our brightest blazes of gladness are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks.”
- samuel johnson (english poet, critic and writer. 1709-1784)

the quiet demise of his car, on the second morning of a holiday meant to be spent roaming the byroads of norfolk and suffolk, could have dampened our spirits considerably.
there was something about the day, though - something about the pub where we
awaited the towing service, about the gregarious truck-ride home in the splendid fall-afternoon light, about prince philip roaring past us in his landrover - that filled us with mirth, and optimism, certain that the bumps jostling us to and fro would be the last
we would brave for the rest of the week.
they were; yes, indeed.
they certainly were.