It's a small world out there.

If you check my guestbook, you'll find that the mysterious reader from the city in the shadow of Zebulon's Mountain was, in fact, my sister. Pretty remarkable, when you figure a city of a quarter million people probably has 100,000 with internet access, yet the one that finds me is my sister.

And she's quite pissed about her visits being discovered. Either that, or the comment I made about being late for Christmas Eve dinner. Not sure which.

Not sure what to do about it, either. She says she's never coming back here. And with her so upset (about me sharing so much of myself with you all, but not her), I'm not sure what to do with the cd of Christmas photos I finally got burned for her yesterday.

She may have found me through my Lassiter entry. Grayson Lassiter's grand-nephew stumbled across that tribute in a genealogy search, and recently contacted me by email. He and I have been sharing facts and photos about the man who saved my father's life, which I have been passing on to my Dad. A really neat connection from this thing they call the internet. (The "internet" is no longer properly capitalized, you know... now who sets those rules? Who said we were supposed to be capitalizing it in the first place? Don't think I always did. Are the Internet Police going to come take me away for it?) But I have had to give vague answers to my Dad about how Lassiter's grand-nephew found me in the first place.

And on a third, happier front, Badsnake recently sent me an email about a family friend she just found out is living somewhere in my part of the planet.

Yep, I know her friend. In fact, have mentioned her a couple times in this journal.

Now how small a planet is that?