Two Wild Beads

Yesterday afternoon I had this conversation:

Kid library patron: I'm looking for a book about Maracca.

Me: Morocco?

Patron: Yes, that's it.  It's for a report I'm doing.  I don't even know where that is.

Me: It's in Northern Africa. Let's see what we can find.

So we found three sources.  Lots of pictures, lots of maps.  One little girl well on her way to knowing a thing or two about Morocco.  Including how to say it.

But that isn't an unusual exchange.  I work at a library after all.

THIS is the strange part:

 When I looked in on this blog the next day, what country showed up as having someone from there visit in the last 24 hours?

Morocco.

~ ~ ~

Last night I posted to my dad's blog: "I miss being able to check in with you."

Within two minutes of hitting "post" the phone rang.
It was my dad.
Calling from the Philippines.  Calling from the following day, noon.
With no idea that I had just read and commented on his latest blog post.

We checked in.  

~ ~ ~

The events of our lives string together to make reasonably predictable patterns.  Or unreasonably unpredictable chaos.  But either way, we kind of get used to seeing what we see.

I love the wild little beads that get thrown in now and then that make me wonder, "How did that get there?"