Robyn Anderson

I am a covert romantic. When I’m all on my own I watch ‘Virgin River’ on Netflix and when I’m not, I download chick lit onto my Kindle so I think I know what I’m missing out on by living with the most practical but non-romantic person on the planet.

Our conversations at this time of the year are usually in the form of – what do you want for your birthday? To which I offer up my suggestion and receive it on the due day. It precludes disappointment and to my way of thinking, leaves the door open to a free-form romantic gesture – though that part has yet to appear.

This year I want a proper lemon squeezer – you know the ones they use on Masterchef where you pop in half a lemon, close the lid and squeeze. My sister-in-law says they take a lot of muscle but I figure if I can work a garlic press, I can do a lemon. My other choice is a book voucher but I think he thinks that because I’ve not used the voucher from Christmas, I’ve gone off those. That isn’t true at all. I adore book vouchers but I’ve been busy and a book voucher has to be savoured and spent a thousand times before you actually do it.

Anyway, back to the topic. My mother and I have birthdays a day apart. This year it’s Mum’s 90th and my brother and his wife are visiting. We had a party yesterday which meant far too much baking and organizing and fielding of phone calls and texts, and I thought as a birthday celebration I’d really love to go out to dinner on Saturday. The suggestion was met with a grateful sigh. ‘OK Lets got to the Thai place down the road.’ Now I really like the Thai place down the road but they’re so efficient you are out of there in under an hour. I’d like to go somewhere I can listen to music, take my time over my meal and actually enjoy the ambience. With his first restaurant suggestion declined I could see him forming the follow up question and leapt in first.’NO! I do not want to have to name a place!’ And he was confused. I’d named the present and the desire to go out to dinner. What was holding me back from naming the restaurant. Because…and this is a big because…I saw what Jack gave Mel. All those tea lights bobbing on the lake and the cute little, unmoored, dingy waiting on the dock…It did cross my mind they were taking a hell of a risk jumping into a free-floating boat with a glass of champagne in hand, but hell, it was romance on a scale I’d never imagined coming from a Kiwi Bloke. (The actor playing Jack is Kiwi, Martin Henderson). But for me and my Kiwi Bloke the dingy has difted off out to the middle of the lake and the only way to get it back is to wade out. And who knows how deep that lake could be?

It’s a good job I know and love my husband. I will always yearn for romance but if there is ever a chance of an adverse weather event or motoring breakdown, I can rest assured that this solid, loving heart of his will have put a rug, snow chains, new wiper blades and a decent jack in the boot. What more can a woman want?