Apparently, I AM a delicate blossom!

Photo of a left hand, with a large bruise on the back of the hand.
Results of a recent misadventure

When I first moved to Texas from California, I picked up some useful terms.

Y’all, of course. You can hardly BE a Texan without using y’all.

But also, ‘a delicate blossom’. Used to signify the frailty of womanhood. In my case, in a sarcastic manner. Or to get out of lifting something heavy.

But this weekend as I was leaving a cafe after a career-planning session with author peeps, the automatic sliding doors did not recognize my presence and closed on me! Apparently, I’m so delicate I don’t even register for electronic eyes.

And I got a massive bruise! So…delicate in two ways. I guess I need to flaunt it. I may be on my way to becoming a southern belle after all.

Happy New Year, Y’all! I hope yours started off with less painful bangs.

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