I think I’m turning into Nero Wolfe. It wasn’t a conscious decision, it just seems to have happened. I’ve turned into a fat man who doesn’t leave the house. I have the waistline, the aversion to exercise and I even have a selection of orchids. I say a selection, but I’m actually 9,997 orchids short of Wolfe’s total.
OK, I’ll come clean – I’ve had the waistline for a while, but being confined to the house hasn’t helped.
The cost of Nero Wolfe books on Kindle starts around £4, which is higher than I want to pay for something with no physical presence. I’ve bought one for a penny, though P&P is £2.80. It’s a tricky balancing act. £4 for a load of pixels, or £2.80 for stamps and a second-hand book I’ll give away.
I’m currently packing for hospital (just one more day left) though it’s unlikely I’ll get a lot of reading done while I’m in there. I’m making sure to pack Wodehouse this time, and a packet of sandwiches. My previous experience shows I’m likely to need cheeriness and sustenance.
What I really need is an auriga to follow me round the hospital and whisper in my ear how lucky I am. I tend to find that as I lie there in the operating theatre my good fortune isn’t always at the forefront of my mind.