I never keep money in the car, even change— too many years living in crack-ridden downtown Ottawa. In fact, I try hard not to leave any possession visible to a passerby, even a coat or hat. Over some 45 years of driving, I have experienced only two car burglaries: the first in a parking arcade, in which I lost a shopping bag full of maps (think of the thieves’ disappointment!), and the second in our own driveway, where I had parked the car overnight because I was too damned lazy to haul open the garage door. That time, they took the Blaupunkt radio that came standard on Volkswagens back in the ‘80s. Boy, was I mad at myself.

This house is also full of dust, and each emptied shelf of books sets me sneezing. The grey pall on the sitting room carpet is downright embarrassing.