Skip to main content

Eggs In a Basket

    Hey again, everyone. All summer we've had a basket of flowers setting on a post on our deck. They were very pretty. The other day my wife noticed four eggs in the basket. They were the size of marbles. They were tan and brown in color. At first we thought they belonged to a Carolina wren that likes to hang around. However, days and weeks went by and no bird was ever seen around them.
    As the flowers drooped we decided to throw them in the woods, reasoning that the eggs had been deserted by their mother. I think we both suspected they might be snake eggs, which is a drag.
    When we dumped the pot it was full of tiny ants. Ignoring them, my wife decided to break open an egg to see if her arch enemy, the snake, might be involved in a trojan horse type of plot to scare her. The egg was empty so we went back inside the house.
    Today we went back out there and a baby snake was writhing about. I killed it by grinding it underfoot like a cigarette. I suppose the moral of the story, if it can be called that, is that even beautiful things may hide things which are not so lovely.
    Let me suggest an old movie that you may enjoy. If you haven't seen it, try Music and Lyrics with Hugh Grant. I think it's terrific. Then go to I-Tunes and check out some of the soundtrack. Also, try an older movie called Day of the Dolphin with George C. Scott.
    From the guy cleaning his shoe. CE Wills.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The White Chicken Mystery

    The other night I happened to come home very late. It was the middle of the night and I was driving up a steep mountain road. Near the top I saw something white in my headlights. It was standing in the other lane, standing very still. It was a large white chicken. It was probably a rooster because I thought I could see his comb as I whizzed by at my customary pace. He never moved a muscle. This is weird, don't you think?      After a couple of days to consider this phenomenon, I have come up with some plausible answers for his bizarre behavior. 1. He was conflicted whether or not he should cross the road. 2. He was feeling cocky and decided to play chicken with the traffic. 3.He was being hen-pecked at home and had decided to end it all. 4. Someone had egged him on to do it. 5. He had just watched the movie Fantastic Four and decided to try to stop a truck the way that Ben Grimm did on the bridge. 6. He had driven himself crazy wondering if ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Egg Art

     Hey, everyone. One of the odd customs in America is the Easter Egg Hunt. Here at the Green Retreat, we do a hunt every Spring. I just ran across some of the pictures from this years hunt and it is obvious that an artist had sneaked into our midst. The orange egg is a rendering of one of the Angry Birds of gaming lore. If I were a bird and had to pass an egg that size, I would be angry too. Ha, ha.      We typically will dye about 10 dozen eggs and people get quite creative with their quotes and colors, as you can see. Many of the eggs are a bit risque for these pages. After having a few laughs, we hide the eggs. All of them are never found, which is cool. It is amusing to see old men (me) and all ages of folks, walking around with a basket on their arm. Some of the hiding spots are dastardly. Like eggs hidden in the guttering downspouts and ten foot up a tree. The kids are perhaps the most devious at hiding the colorful orbs, goi...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Biscuit

    Hey, everyone. What a relief that Christmas is over, huh? I don't think it was meant to be the way it is.     I started thinking about the so-called good 'ole days today. My wife says that at her house, they would take a left-over biscuit and shine their shoes before church. I one-upped her by saying, "Oh, yeah? I ate the biscuit when everyone got finished with it. And I was grateful for it." Truly, though, you can and people did, shine their shoes with a biscuit. Hey, they were greasy little buggers.     Speaking of greasy little buggers, I remember when everyone had wells and were very conservative about water, particularly those of us who had to crank a handle up and down to get a bucket of water. There was no daily bath. (No showers in those days, mate.) About twice a week we took a bath and here's the recipe: The oldest kid took a bath first, then the next oldest etc. You can see why younger siblings hated the older. Bathing in the...
Post a Comment
Read more