There seems to have been a misunderstanding.
In writing about my need to economise I mentioned books. At no point did I say that I am going to stop buying them – it's an impossibility. They are paid for out of my pocket money.
I went to Beer and Books last night with two books (House of Dr Dee which I am reading now and the book group choice of Love in the Time of Cholera) and came back with six. One was a gift and the other three I bought with the voucher my brother gave me for my birthday.
P., who is the only person, because of my illness, to have been to all the gatherings puts me to shame as he has a far superior collection of books and has plenty of ideas of how to fit more on the bookshelves. He is also rather posh and has a fantastic vocabulary. If I turn up a little late it's because I've had a f**king nightmare. Yesterday, he'd had “an incipient disaster”. Sounded too delightful to be something terrible.
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