Transit

Something needs to be done about transit in the city. The 401 is perpetually stagnant. TTC is horrendously outdated. The only saving grace in Toronto is the bus service which is surprisingly adequate. As I am stuck in traffic, not moving faster than 10 km / hr, I ponder transit systems in other world class cities like London, Paris, New York, Rome etc and wonder when Toronto will join their ranks. As my thoughts meander in this way, a curse from my husband brings me back to our current problem. We are a half hour late for an engagement and as always, my excuse is traffic. 

Read

There's nothing like a good read. My husband does not find spending time within the confines of home with a good book, at all appetizing. However, I am quite unashamed of being quite bookish. At present, I find myself quite unable to tear myself away from Tasha Alexander's A Poisoned Season, the second in a series of historical mystery novels based during Queen Victoria's reign. I happened on her penmanship quite by chance, while reading an article on Michele Moran, an author, whose work I read voraciously. She had mentioned that Tasha Alexander was her favourite read, so I had no choice but to sample some of her work. I was hooked. A hint of humour, a pinch of adventure, a smidgen of romance and a good helping of mystery made my surrender with reckless abandon complete. My poor husband has despaired of his meals as I am too absorbed to cook, much less, provide him with something to eat. Somehow the paltry allures of spinach, eggplant & chicken breasts fail to divert one's attention from a seriously delicious murder mystery.