I enjoy a good deal of anonymity as a blogger. And by enjoy, I mean that I can go to Wal•Mart resembling death on toast, and with the exception of a few local friends (who are use to me looking like that), I can go unnoticed. Happily.
I fiercely guard the privacy of my family by not giving out our last name, or the city that we live in. I also don’t post pictures of my kids. (Sometimes I wish I could, though, BECAUSE THEY ARE REALLY CUTE.)
It’s a very personal blogging decision that everyone has to make for their own family. And since Fiddledaddy makes a living as an undercover spy/agent for a super secret faction of the F.B.I. that deals in criminal mischief and whatnot, we have found it best not to reveal too much.
I’m lying. He doesn’t make a living at it, he does it totally for free.
Anyhoo. I don’t even post pictures of the kids on Facebook. Because we’re just weirdos cautious that way.
Sometimes though, I wish I could be a wee bit more forthcoming.
Not long ago, I ran a giveaway on my review blog. I e-mailed the winner and asked for her to send me her name and address so I could forward it to the client.
We e-mailed each other back a forth a bit, and she was in a quandary about which address to use as she was going to be moving within a couple of weeks of the contest. More e-mails passed, and the more we corresponded, I realized that we lived in the same town. And I shared that information with her. More correspondence. Then we realized that we had been attending the same church for the last two years.
In fact, her husband regularly helped out with Awana, and had even aided me in my class when I was in desperate need of a tall, strong, male presence.
We quickly e-mailed family pictures back and forth.
And we were all, OH MY GOSH, I KNOW YOU!!! I KNOW YOUR KIDS!!!!
She had just attended our end of the year Awana celebration and we were sitting in the same room, just feet away from each other. Had no clue.
And to make all of this more bizarre, she told me that she had started reading my blog a few years ago while they were still living in California. Then she moved here to Armpit, Florida and we were practically neighbors. Another 2 years went by and we’ve been attending the same church, traveling in the same circles, yet we had no idea.
I kind of think people would not recognize me without the pink turban and cucumbers.
I had hoped to be able to run her down at church to hug her neck just before they moved, but I was sidelined on her last Sunday at church with sick kids at home.
We still correspond, and she’ll likely read Fiddledeedee when she has nothing better to do. Hopefully, I can now bring her a little piece of news from home now and again. And she’ll completely understand why I need to grab a bottle of Excedrin before I discuss Awana issues.
The few times I’ve been able to peek out from behind the curtain of my blog, I’ve been so blessed to have met some wonderful women. Both readers and other bloggers.
It really is such a small world. After all.