Welcome to my new webspace at plousia.org. As I increasingly needed the .com address for work-related stuff, it seemed to be time to migrate this blog over here. Thanks for sticking with me! The .com site will hopefully be up and running soon with links to websites I've done, photographs, and more.

Last night, I walked the three miles or so downtown to meet friends for dinner. The strong wind pushed at my back, impelling me on. Leaves rushed by, swirled around my feet, and scattered across the road like celebratory confetti. The sky above was a moody white-gray, smudged with darker gray. As I walked, a wet darkness crept over the city and headlights bloomed.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to a friend's church on a Sunday evening. This particular evening, they had the Lord's Supper at the end of the service. (I don't know if they do so weekly).

The way that they did so was typical of many churches, so my observations are not criticisms of this church in particular. They're not even criticisms per se, though I find it interesting how this practice has, I believe, evolved so far from how it was originally intended.

Yesterday my housemate and I walked to Sunday evening meeting. Yes, it's three miles from our house, but we felt like some exercise. Sometimes I get tired of the TTC, and driving in the city is an exercise in aggravation.

As we came to a particular intersection, we heard a man shouting. Clusters of people were gathered round the street corners staring. We pinpointed the source of the noise, a basement door entrance set below the sidewalk, guarded by a metal fence. A disheveled man was screaming over and over, "Aah! Aah! Aah! Call the police! Call 911!"

It's autumn in Toronto, October, but the charmed weather continues, sunny days that nearly top temperature records, yesterday a sweaty 27 (80F). I keep wondering how long this can last, but it does. Trees have flamed into yellow as if touched by the brush of an artist charged with making the city look autumnal.

A lot of people speculate about why women seem to be attracted to jerks, cads, and players who end up breaking their hearts, while ignoring much nicer "good guys" and treating them only as friends.

As a woman, I'm probably qualified to weigh in on the discussion, not least because the kind of guys I tend to be attracted to (whether I date them or not) usually fall into the first category.

Life hasn't included much time for blogging recently, or anything else nonessential: I've been rushing around like the proverbial decapitated barnyard fowl, but hopefully accomplishing something more than he does in the process.

Importing my car to Canada has turned out to be a royal, and very expensive, pain. Thus far it's included hefty fees, lots of paperwork, many phone calls, rushing around to various offices and dealerships, and one large stress headache. However, the process seems to be moving along, with the federal inspection form released today. Now I just have to get the car inspected, modded to meet Canadian safety standards (which I expect to involve several more hefty fees), and then, hopefully, somewhere at the end of the process, sold for enough to make this whole sordid thing worthwhile. In theory.