I have plans to plant a row of camellias down the side of our house that, from a gardening perspective, has been neglected. Having decided this I prepared the existing and very old garden bed with chook poop and weed matting.
One night the Lovely Husband and I had a fight. We broke the golden rule and went to bed angry. The next morning we were both sorry and over it. Later that day the Lovely Husband comes home with a decent sized camellia plant and a loaf of Turkish bread for me. That is love! I, of course, was truly delighted as we are not generally a gift giving couple.
One week down the track we decide it is time to buy the next camellia. We are spacing our purchases as they are not cheap. We decide it is time for another fight, the tradition has begun. He called me a cow and I called him the son of a motherless goat and then we smile at each other. Fight done and dusted, he can now buy another camellia for me and he does. That is love.
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