Wild thing

Wildflowers have taught me to be authentic. You cannot mess with a wildflower. If does its own thing Too much water or love and if will die. One must look at a wildflower with a sideways glance. Appreciation is appreciated. Don’t expect a sweetness without an inward determination or discernment from the wild thing.


Today while shopping the Sunday crowds were noticeable. The checkout lane was accepted. Yet even with the self-check out open and the 15 items or less open, two young men with several Styrofoam cups wanted to go first. They loomed close to me. Thinking my old women ways would be forgiving and stupid to the fact they would eventually ask the question.

And then it happened the young man said,

“Can you do us a favor…”

I said with well learned flower intention and assertion,

“No. There is a self-checkout over there and a 15 or less over there. Otherwise you need to chill and wait like the rest of us.”

I went ahead with the checkout process. These two young men then decided to enter my space. I had to tell them to please step back.

“You need to step back because you are invading my space.”

They were in front of the cash check machine. I had to bag my things. They were shaking their heads like I was playing the wrong card.

You cannot expect older mamas to be sweaty pie by force. If these two young men were older and needed my help, I would have let them through and bagged for them. But these guys thought wrong about me.

It felt good to say “no” and “back off.”

I did not use fuck, or stupid or use my hand finger. I was assertive and authentic like the wildflowers in my garden.




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