Jack is almost irritatingly alert and is given to racing about my yard in huge figure eights with the least provocation. The humorist, Roy Blount Jr. calls Jack Russell terriers “sprung dogs.” That is because from a sitting position, they can jump 5 feet or more, straight up ... sprung! Despite the fact that Jack causes me endless trouble, I adore him. He never obeys a command, refuses to eat dog food, and caused me considerable embarrassment by “nipping” anyone wearing a uniform (mailmen, the UPS driver, Kiwanis Club members, etc.). On the other hand, he loves women, children and other Jack Russells. Admittedly, I lost patience with him three years ago when he ate my hearing aids (he did it again last December), but a vet explained that some dogs love earwax and simply can’t resist it. I think he called it “canine German chocolate.” At any rate, Jack has the decency to look guilty when he sees me fiddling with the controls on my damaged “ear buttons.”

Vanity Fair

Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that I would be a “Vanity Fair addict.” I have always been turned off by a magazine that is filled with advertisements featuring listless, sullen and scantily clad models (male and female) that appear to be afflicted with fatal ennui. Ah, but if you will skip all of that frivolous trash and turn to the “in-depth” coverage of scandals and deceits, you will find some of the best gossip and muckraking the media has to offer. Everything from government corruption and celebrity murders to the sexual kinkiness of the rich and famous. Just think, if I didn’t read Vanity Fair, I wouldn’t know the truth about Michael Jackson’s nose, Elvis Pressley’s diaper or the fact that Patricia Cornwall (the novelist) was accused of stalking both Demi Moore and Jodi Foster! Recently, when I considered how much bleaker my life would be without the whispered revelations of Dominick Dunne, I renewed my subscription.

Moonflowers

My first encounter with Moonflowers was in the fiction of William Price Fox in which people were always gathering to watch the flowers open. Moonflowers open at night, or to be specific, in the late afternoon. Like the characters in a Fox novel, I observe the ritual. You place a chair before a cluster of Moonflowers, get a cup of coffee and wait. It is easy to tell which buds are about to open because they swell and tremble. Moonflowers are usually white and as big as saucers. When they open with a soft pop, they release a momentary flood of perfume. I usually find the ritual more rewarding that the sitcom that I am missing on TV.

— By Gary Carden