Vivan had to work the first week or so I was in Australia. Fortunately, as the days passed we managed to get her out the door in the morning a bit earlier, maybe not on time but at least not an hour late like the first morning.
The third day I got a text from Vivian while she was at work asking if I liked steak. Um, I’m a red-blooded, American male, steak is the largest food group. Closely followed by beer, of course. She liked to cook and wanted to make dinner.
I offered to get the wine. Anything with “New Zealand” and “Pinot Noir” on the label, I was told. I got one bottle as she suggested, then found a Shiraz to show her one that I liked.
Being the helpful individual I am, I offered to help Vivian in the kitchen when she got home with a bag full of groceries. Yeah, I got a big “No!” from her. She is very possessive of the kitchen when she’s cooking, so I stood outside the imaginary divide and watched her work. Continue reading