As a fellow clearer-outer, I also enjoy the wide-open space I have in my garage where other people keep their hoards of stuff. Every winter, I rejoice in that space as I drive around town without having spent a mauvaise quart d'heure clearing the car of ice and snow. Likewise, the driveway is left clear for the snow-removal people, who scrape it down to the tarmac and thus save me hours and hours of hard labour that I am frankly too old for.

Of all the household services I pay for, I love snow-removal the best, though lawn-mowing comes a close second.

I feel much more ambivalent about house-cleaning, and I now realize that I'm not crazy about having another person having the run of the place. The cat-visitor doesn't go into the bedroom or the study for more than the few seconds it takes to ascertain that the roof isn't leaking and the windows are intact, but an effective cleaner can hardly help eventually finding out where everything of value to me is stashed. Cleaners also grab and drop fragile things that should not be grabbed or dropped, and they apologize profusely but the things remain irreparably damaged. So I guess I'm resigned to the whole tedious business of dusting, vacuuming and scrubbing while I still can.