Take this morning for example - the good lady was in the play-room sorting out some of my late Dad's stuff to take to the charity shop, when she came across a copy of 'The Practical Home Handyman'.
Nothing special in that, I guess - my Dad had collected hundreds and hundreds of old books and signed books from charity shops and the like over the last few years and stored them in the back bedroom-cum-library - but what's worth bearing in mind is that the choice of my wife bringing these particular books home a week or so ago was completely arbitrary; my wife and my Mum needed to clear some space to get at some stuff in the cupboard above the stairs, and these old books were in the way.
Anyway, as my wife is putting all these old books into bags to put in the car, she happens to open up 'The Practical Home Handyman' - no reason really, she just suddenly felt a compunction to look inside it (interestingly, page 43 tells you how to make a wooden clothes horse).
Inside the front cover is written, in pencil:
85 Preston Old Road
Again, nothing special in that - people are always writing their name and address on the inside covers of books.
Except...John Simpson (of said address) is, somewhat spookily, my wife's grandfather!
Cue the following: