I have one of those small world things possibly going on now that has me amused at possibilities, so I'd like to share.

One of the regular readers here on the blogs, a geezer dad of teens adopted from foster care named John, has clued me into the fact that he's on a fishing trip in Oregon at the moment. Since fishing trips now come with WiFi, apparently, he's in blog contact even as he relaxes in the crisp mountain air ... I can almost smell the piney-woodsy tang from here ... and letting me know the fish are few and far between. (I've heard that one before.)

Nice. I like this sort of contact with readers, getting to know more about you all than just the adoption-related stuff that has us agreeing whole-heartedly, disputing interpretations, explaining perspectives and such. It's warming, somehow, and so often forges connections that lead to deeper understanding all the way around, including the adoption-related stuff.

One of my readers recently shared her family's grief over having to have their loving pooch put down, and talked about how her son was dealing with it all. Another sent me some bits of smile that were copies of children's letters to God.

Some, knowing I live in the back of beyond, have taken it upon themselves to try to keep me somewhat up-to-date on the latest movies, toys, etc.. Others give a heads up when they come across something in their adoption neighborhood that the broader community might find interesting.

So, this blogging turns out to be so much more than the "logging" part of the word would indicate. In fact, it seems in shortening web log to blog, the most important part got cut off. It's web that is the operative bit. Maybe the better brand-new-word-for-the-90s should have been weblo. After all, isn't there a Boy Scout rank for that already?

Okay, there's another way to pronouce and emphasize 'weblo', but we'll ignore that rather rude take and live with the realization that "blog" is here to stay no matter how nicely sticky the web that ties us all together may be.

But back to John and the small world thing ...

At around two o'clock tomorrow afternoon, John will be piloting his small aircraft over a Northern California Central Valley town on his way back down the state ... plane full of freshly-caught fish, I'm sure ... the Northern California Central Valley town my mother lives in.

Having shared with him in an email that my mom's house is in his flight path, he has offered to wag his wings as he passes over.

I have emailed my mom with the ETO (Estimated Time Over), and she will make a point of being in her backyard in and around 2pm.

Don't you love it?

Here I am on the other side of the planet arranging an encounter that will be separated by 6,000 feet or something between someone I've never met, and most likely never will but know nonetheless, and my mother, who'll be waving like mad at every private plane she sees tomorrow afternoon just in case this person neither of us would recognize if he knocked on our door happens to make his plane go wobbly for a few minutes as a message from me ... twelve time zones away ... to her down on the ground right below him.

She lives near the airport in her town, so I suspect she'll have a bit of a stiff neck by Friday.

Sorry, Mom.

Do I need to mention again how much I love this age we live in?

I dont' think so, but I will tell all you dear readers that I so appreciate you, even if your not about to wag your wings at my mother. Thank you.

For information/instructions on how to subscribe FREE to your favorite AdoptionBlogs, please visit this link.