I’ve been thinking about lawn bowling this morning.

I remember really enjoying lawn bowling when we went on a field trip to the green in downtown Oakville when I was in grade 8 or 9.

At the edge of those thoughts lies the dark fear that my tenant is getting angrier and angrier that her bathtub hasn’t been fixed yet, and will eventually move out and leave me destitute, all because my plumber isn’t picking up his cell phone when I call. Presumably he should be at my house, installing a toilet and/or sink. But still, he won’t answer. What if I was calling to tell him I accidentally left the gas on?