Tom has just come home for the second night in a row to find me sitting at the laptop in my red butcher's apron. I've been experimenting with domesticity and by that, I mean cooking dinner. Baking is my thing, but cooking? Well, let's just say I'm honoured that Tom is willing to risk his life by eating my chicken.
I think the cooking must be a hangover from the weekend. Tom had a rugby game on Saturday morning so I decided to brave the market shop by myself. I felt very grown up wheeling my little trolley around Prahran Market and ordering pieces of chicken like I knew what I was doing. (Then again, I'm 27 years old. I probably should know what I'm doing by now). Once I had my chicken and pasta and mussels and vegies I had to do something with them - hence dinner the past two nights.
In all, it was quite a lovely weekend. Tom's team won, I got the groceries home and baked a lemon and prosecco cake. Saturday evening we had a gorgeous dinner at Il Solito Posto then went to see Tex Perkins' The Man in Black. Oh. My. Goodness.
If you're a Johnny Cash fan, you need to see this show. If you're not a Johnny Cash fan, you need to see this show, because you will be by the end. Tex and co do a brilliant job of telling the man in black's life story whilst doing credit to his music. I've not listened to anything but Cash since we saw the show and have occasional fantasies that I've a voice like June Carter's.
Sadly, the Melbourne encore season has just come to an end but the show is next in Adelaide, Canberra and Perth. If you're domiciled on this continent, consider going. It is worth the plane ticket.
Which, in a very roundabout way brings me to another of my strange crushes: Tex Perkins. Sure, he's old enough to be my father, but he can work a crowd like few people I've ever seen. And what's not to love about a man who's tall, rocks a suit, has great hair and can sing like J.R. Cash?