An octopus, a crime novel's afterword, and a woman in Newfoundland with a box of letters - turns out it is always the kindness of strangers that takes me apart.
Three books across July and August, all of them Canadian, two of them excellent, and one a bit all over the place.
Being discharged right away felt weirdly fast and frankly, we were expecting much more hand-holding than Toronto's medical system was willing to give us.
Seven books finished across June and July, three of them excellent, and the same complaint about every one that missed - it went on too long.