I've been reading a book called So Much For That by Lionel Shriver, who also wrote We Need to Talk About Kevin about the mother of a mass shooter and Big Brother about a morbidly obese sibling. All really compelling books. I'd been reading this one for a few days but got sucked into it at lunchtime and couldn't put it down, finishing it just before Jasmine got home from school! It's about a man who has planned for years to escape the rat race and go and live cheaply and simply in Africa or somewhere, and finally delivers an ultimatum to his wife that he is going with or without her. And she tells him she's just found out she has a very serious form of cancer. She needs his emotional and financial support, and his health insurance. It's about caring for someone through a terminal illness, the US medical insurance system, giving up your dreams for those you love, how family and friends don't always react the way you expect to crises. As always, Shriver is insightful and heartrending.
My husband just rang after yet another conversation with the furniture store we've been chasing for about eight months now about Aiden's chest-of-drawers, which originally arrived (last Christmas) with a piece missing. Twice we have gone through the whole rigmarole of them ordering the part and after months of waiting finding out they got the wrong part. And they never call us back, we have to keep calling them. Well today they told him they have the piece (for the third time) and their tradesman will contact me to arrange a time to come and fix it. Crossed fingers! I just think it's funny, now.
I've been continuing with the vinegar treatment on my wart, and last night the whole top came off so the rest is now level with my foot, which makes walking a bit more comfortable. More vinegar! I'm at war with this horrid thing.