It's a small, small world

This small world story actuall pertains to me... well, more specifically, my husband.

I was conversing with one of our guests this morning at breakfast and she was telling me about her grown sons, who have rented a house nearby with their families and who she is here to visit. In passing she mentioned a town in New Jersey where one of her sons lives. It turns out to be the town my husband grew up in, and with which I am somewhat familiar, so I asked where in this town. She named a section of the town, which is the same as where my husband grew up, so I asked the street name. She couldn't remember but she said it was near [local landmark]. Just for grins, I asked "It isn't [name of street my husband grew up on], is it?" You know where this is going. She knew the house number and I called my husband to double-check. Her son owns the house my husband lived in from the age of six until he was eighteen. They bought it from my mother-in-law. How very strange.

I don't have the connection to that house my husband does, obviously, but I did spend a fair bit of time there the first few years of our marriage. We held our wedding reception in the back yard of that house and there was a huge family & friends party there in June of every year until it was sold, so I know the house pretty well.

We're hoping to meet him later in the week, I'm sure they have questions about the house my husband will be able to answer. We already know my mother-in-law wants to ask them about "her" apple trees and a few other things.