The second-best small world story: Yesterday we were at the airport waiting for Vince. We were standing by the window and overheard a British gentleman talking to the people he was with. After a couple of pleasantries about the planes, I asked:
---What part of England are you from?
---Windsor, south of London.
---Oh, yeah. We spent four years there some 30 years ago. [Ack! THIRTY?? It was a formative time, hard to believe it was so long ago!]
---Really? Where were you?
---Near Newmarket.
---Really? We lived there for seven years when we were first married. What town?
---Burwell.
---REALLY? BURwell? That's where we lived!
---When were you there?
---1971.
---We overlapped! We were there from '68 to '72. We lived on Scotred Close.
---I don't know where that is.
---[Rich and I together]The box factory. Reach Road.
---Oh, yes, Tillottson's.
---Where did you live?
---Parsonage Lane.
---Oh, yes. Did you know Sue and Phil B.?
---Susan B? Phil? They're our best friends!
---Really? She taught our oldest daughter! They've been to visit us!

... and many more exclamations and cries of delight. The interesting thing is, I didn't know anyone who lived on Parsonage Lane, I finally remembered. I must have plucked the B's names from ESP, as they first lived on Orchard Close and now on Mill Lane. The Parsonage houses were brand-new, built while we were there. I used to walk the children that way to visit a friend, because this was quieter, less traffic, and the High Street sidewalks were very narrow.

I didn't get to ask him about "Auntie Dot", the old lady photographer we knew and loved. The time I went in '77 was to see her before she died (and before she got so paranoidly senile.)

I've gotta get my passport paperwork in order! Definitely.