Fields of gold and a mystery man

I don’t tend to wallow in self-doubt, especially when it comes to this space of mine in the Blogosphere. But I will admit that it crosses my mind, and sometimes frequently, as to whether or not I should keep my blog going.

And the answer is always, “of course you should, you silly fool.” I mean, where else can I share my photography and my awesome jokes ( * snort * ) ?

And what in the world would I do in the evening if I didn’t write a post? Actually, I can think of a lot of things I could be doing, or that I should be doing – but still . . .

Often, when I’m feeling like this, I’ll get a comment or two that lifts me up from the doldrums I happen to be floating around in, and I get over it.

That happened today.




But yesterday, I received a rather unusual comment from a gentleman.  And this gentleman presumes to know me and to know my husband as well, going so far as to call him by a name that very few ever do.

And the few that do go back a long way.

I cannot reply to this person and their profile is also blocked. Frankly, it’s been bothering me throughout the day. I would just like to know who this person is, and to thank them for their kind thoughts. Then I’m going to yell at them for making me fret all day long.

Nah. I won’t yell.

I would just like to know that this person is not an axe murderer.




If this person is you, and you own no axes of any sort, who are you?

And the fields of gold from the post title? This is one of my favorite versions.

Eva Cassidy

You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Among the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold

Have a beautiful day. Thanks for your visits, your friendship, your support. I don’t think I tell you enough how much I appreciate you.

Luv,