A tree grows in Brooklyn

I mean a tree grows in Marrakesh, of course.  But you get the picture.

Okay, so now that we knew approximately how much land that we were after, there was the question of what exactly would be on that land.  My answer to that was simple:  a tree and more trees.  An orchard, preferably.  Olive trees, lemon trees, orange trees, fig trees, etc., etc.  Mature plantings.  Picture Tuscany but in Marrakesh.  (This is when the camera pans over the landscape in your favorite movie.  Music, please.)       

My husband's cheerful response to that was,  "Well, yes, but we can always plant trees.  We shouldn't let trees stop us from getting the right piece of land at the right price." 

Damn, that man was practical.  My oasis was slipping away before my very eyes. 

The following ensued:  bargaining and bickering, pleading and wheedling, agreements and recapitulations.  Finally we reached a compromise:  a promise to keep an open mind.  (But secretly, you know, I hadn't budged an inch....)

" I have opinions of my own - strong opinions - but I don't always agree with them."

 ~President George W Bush

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