Will be brave for flowers
Yesterday I returned from a nine-day residency at Centrum, where I worked on embiggening my Middle Years fantasy novel "Speculation." Always I create an altar when writing, and this novel's altar requires a heavy flower presence. Bought some pink tulips at the food co-op on the way, but they began to get peaked-looking by day five, so I eyed the hundreds of daffodils bedding around the building next to mine. One morning I climbed the building's stairs to ask if I could pick a few.
The woman in the building's registration office--it's a Youth Hostel--said they weren't hers, but she thought I couldn't. "The woman who owns this building is very protective of those flowers," she informed me, twisting her mouth afterwards to show what a pain it was even to have to consider forwarding my request. But I persevered--I asked how to get in to the area where this protective woman stayed. I couldn't get through via the office, and the twisty-mouth woman folded a dishtowel and said, "Why don't we just accept 'No' as the answer?"
"Because I haven't spoken to the person who can give me an answer," I replied.
As I went back outside I heard the twisty mouth muttering to a bystander about how brave I was.
I knocked and got the attention of the protective flower owner. I was sorry to disturb her--she was still in her flannel pajamas. But I asked if I could pick five or six flowers please.
"You can pick twelve," she told me. "I like your doll." (I had taken Lillie for a walk with me.) I went back to the twisty mouth woman and told her I had permission. I picked eleven daffodils of four varieties and one red tulip. They looked lovely in the vase on my altar.
I needed the flowers to write.
Yes, I was brave. Sometimes we have to be.
The woman in the building's registration office--it's a Youth Hostel--said they weren't hers, but she thought I couldn't. "The woman who owns this building is very protective of those flowers," she informed me, twisting her mouth afterwards to show what a pain it was even to have to consider forwarding my request. But I persevered--I asked how to get in to the area where this protective woman stayed. I couldn't get through via the office, and the twisty-mouth woman folded a dishtowel and said, "Why don't we just accept 'No' as the answer?"
"Because I haven't spoken to the person who can give me an answer," I replied.
As I went back outside I heard the twisty mouth muttering to a bystander about how brave I was.
I knocked and got the attention of the protective flower owner. I was sorry to disturb her--she was still in her flannel pajamas. But I asked if I could pick five or six flowers please.
"You can pick twelve," she told me. "I like your doll." (I had taken Lillie for a walk with me.) I went back to the twisty mouth woman and told her I had permission. I picked eleven daffodils of four varieties and one red tulip. They looked lovely in the vase on my altar.
I needed the flowers to write.
Yes, I was brave. Sometimes we have to be.