This apropos of having gone to a Taizé service last night to see how Anglicans do the meditation thing. They 'invite' the bell, which is nicely Buddhist. They also emphasize that you're nobody till Somebody loves you, which er well is the reverse of the Buddhism I've been reading lately, for sure. I might have been more appreciative if I hadn't discovered, half an hour before, that the antibiotic drops I'd been taking pre- and post-op expired in March 2011, which cataracted me had read as 2012.
The Church of the Red Eamer is a (long) block away from the Towering Dungheap of Mammon at Bedford and Bloor. The Dungheap contains a swanky Bank of Montreal with no outdoor ATM and no access after hours, which alone is reason enough to hate it-- quite apart from the people-friendly bank it abandoned a block away at St George, and the lively restaurants and pubs its new building displaced. In line with that, Mammon now boasts a Shoppers' Drugmart, an absurdly overpriced drug chain that swallows up independents.
But only Shoppers' are open on Sundays, so I dropped in and consulted the absurdly young female pharmacist on duty. Who assured me that expiry dates on these drugs mean the stuff is good for another six months or so. Relieved that I wasn't about to develop an infection, I thanked her and silently wished her a better position.