This novel by Joy Fielding is a fictional story with Parkinson’s disease as part of the story line. I tripped over this novel in the library the other day and brought it home. It was not until I began reading it that I picked up the Parkinson’s piece of the story line.

It is also a discussion of alternative truths, lies and deceit.

It is about thoroughly checking references when hiring help in your home.

Dysfunctional families always make a good story. Most times they are the story. There is plenty of that in this novel.

Pleasing our parents is something that we always try to do. Even when the parent is gone many of us still try. Even if the parent is old and cantankerous.

Bad parenting, good parenting, mutual respect and aid is all part of the complicated state of marriage.

Kids being kids add comic relief.

Writer’s ego and husband philanderers creep in and out of the story line.

With an amusing and unexpected plot twist near the end, it changed how I thought about the characters.

And a satisfying hallmark style ending always makes for a good completion chapter.

Read books. The day goes faster. Especially days that only have decaf.

Last evening most of Cheryl’s sisters and all of her brothers came to our house for a sibs dinner. Ostensibly a celebration of the youngest’s birthday. Ken goes to Florida on his birthday week. He looked tan. I made spaghetti and meatballs. Cheryl likes that. I made paine ordinaire (simple bread) because I like that. Tari brought salad. We had three desserts. We sang happy birthday.

Later I found Cheryl in the back closet wondering where she was. She seemed in wonder that all her clothes had somehow been moved to the back closet by our bedroom. She selected her blue zip-up jacket because she was cold. I was hot. Birthday boy was wearing shorts. The thermometer read 74.

She was very excited last night. She slept poorly overnight. So did I so today I am reading.

It is February in Ohio.

Carpe Diem.