Life and ideas are like an urn of potpourri filled with dried petals of flowers past. Things bloom, then die, leaving their brief trails of essence. My notebooks are urns filled with short-lived ideas that bloomed but had shallow root. The least I can do is give them honorable mention that they once lived. We’re …

We have a new dog. I’m teaching him the finer points of fitting into polite society. It might be easier to teach him to walk on water. I’m over my head either way. His name is Bogey. He’s a hound, thinks he’s human. He rebelled at some other names. Humphrey didn’t suit him, and he …

It’s another Dog Days Saturday in Dixie. Anybody living in the humidity-soaked South knows what this means. Sweat. I’ve been validating this thesis on the back porch, assigned to an ‘attitude evaluation project.’ Women validate their own thesis: men need remedial adjustments early and often. Today is mine. The project is assembling new porch furniture. …