In which it's a small world, after all

Got my e-mail from Amy Singer today: two new patterns for summer up on Knitty.com.

I checked out the everlasting bagstopper--great idea, and I, too, always forget my reusable bags. OK, I think, this one might go on the list as long as hemp yarn isn't too expensive.

Then, even though I am SO not in the market for another top, I checked out Emerald Seas. Cute! I'd like to knit it, I think, and it's cool that the person is from the Pacific Northwest, like me, and I'm looking at the photos and I think: huh. That water? That looks like my bay. Those islands in the background? Those look like my background islands, the San Juans. That path winding through the waterside park? Looks like my path winding through a waterside park, in fact, wasn't I just chasing a four-year-old on a bike on that path??

I read the bio, and only says "Washington State." (Because, pet peeve, when we Washingtonians are out of town and self-identifying, we always have to say we're from Washington STATE otherwise people think we're from Washington D. C., and I think it sounds dorky.) So I do some quick clicking and it turns out that the designer is an instructor at my local community college.

Small world. (Good thing I'm not a stalker; I now know her e-mail, office location, and what classes she's teaching next quarter. Kinda cool, kinda creepy.)