Huh.

Watching NCAA basketball tonight and playing on the computer, I started randomly typing things into Google to search. One of the more random things I was looking for was an obituary of a neighbor who died several years ago. He'd written his own obituary before his death and it definitely read as Leslie. A teacher at my school has students doing various projects for Bridge to Terabithia, including writing an obituary for the character (also Leslie) who dies in the book. I wanted to show them a copy of this obituary as an example.

While on my Google hunt, I came across a biography for an author named Martha Freeman. Her book The Year my Parents Ruined my Life is a favorite of mine in my library, partly because I just knew my own parents had completely destroyed my life when I was 13 and they moved me to Texline. TEXLINE! A town I was convinced didn't even exist because I was absolutely positive that there was no town between Dalhart and Clayton. Low and behold, there is and we lived in that town for seven years. Although it's not much of a town--425 people according to the city limit sign I have in my garage (that's a whole other post--what does one do with the assortment of ill-gotten gains from youth? Paul says we should return it the next time we're up in the area--just leave it on the City Hall doorstep. And I didn't steal it--it was a "gift" from friends when we found out we were moving to Canadian.) But as it turned out, that move to Texline wasn't that bad after all.

But that's not the interesting thing. The interesting thing is that the author Martha Freeman is the daughter of my neighbor. I didn't realize this until tonight's random-Google-a-thon. It's always amazing to me how small the world really is. Perhaps I'll send her an email and tell her all of this and how much I like her book, etc. Authors like that kind of thing, right?