CE Wills

     Hey, everyone. It is a peaceful Sunday morning at the green retreat. I awoke at 5 A.M. and just lay in bed and thought about stuff. I thought about things I'd always wanted to do and some of those items on that list which I have actually accomplished.     These days, they have a term for everything and Bucket List is a term which is thrown around. It comes from the Jack Nicholson movie, I suppose. I found that movie sad and depressing but the subject is intriguing.      It's funny. As one goes through this life, their list undergoes transformation. You may accomplish 50% of your list. About another 40% you lose interest in doing because you decide it was stupid, or a waste of time or too much money involved, or it was just too much of a hassle.      Let's face it. I am in my sixties and I have some physical things that limit the contents of my bucket. Ha, ha. I just had a mental picture of a guy walking along carrying a bucket with holes in it and water springing

    Hey, everyone. We have been without power for a lengthy time and I am glad to have rejoined the current century, as far as tech goes. In my area, there was a massive amount of downed trees but things are mostly copacetic (Old term for cool.) as we speak. I hate sitting in the dark, even if I am reading The Clash of Kings. For several nights, I read while in bed, which I never do, and was very happy to have the back-lit screen. I mean, Abe Lincoln must have really strained his eyes, reading by the light of a fireplace.      Hey, it is Valentine's Day, here in the states. This holiday was invented by marketers but it is a nice gesture when heartfelt, sharing your love with whomever. As a token of my dedication to the merits of love, I did something nice for my car today, which I'll tell you about shortly.      I have been writing a new western book. It started with a real bang, but I have been doing other things for a few days. I went to see Jack Ryan, Shadow Recruit, ba

    Hey, everyone. As you know, I like to meditate on a painting or sculpture on occasion. I know very little about art and make no claim to being a critic. I do know this much; it feeds my soul, as a good meal feeds my body. I can sit down and study a painting, like the one above, and feel my soul's yearning for something indefinable. Is it a love for beauty? A desire for a different life that might have been?      I have an app for my I-Pad that I truly enjoy. It is named Impressionists . As you thumb through it you can choose between dozens of the old Impressionist painters such as Van Gogh, Cezanne, Renoir and the above-mentioned Pissarro. It is a feast for the eyes.     This morning, I meditated on Pissarro's Girl With a Goat. I thought about many things. 1) Was this goat a favored pet? It seems so, since she had it on a leash and was looking at it with a benign smile. It is certainly a long-haired goat. What do they call those? An Angora? No... 2) It must be spring

   Hey, everyone. I just finished a good book and I thought I'd tell you about it. The title is Gone Tomorrow, by Lee Child. Here's the recipe from one of the latest tales in the saga of Jack Reacher.      As you may know, Jack Reacher is an ex-Army Investigator who travels the United States and stays off the grid. He owns the shirt on his back and not much else. He rides buses, hitch-hikes and takes up for the little guy.      In this installment, Jack is on a subway in New York City. One of the other passengers is acting strangely and bears a striking resemblance to the suicide bomber checklist for symptoms. Reacher approaches her and the lady pulls a gun from her gym bag and blows her own brains out. As you can imagine, Jack gets a trip to the police station for an interview.     It isn't long before Reacher finds himself working the case, even though he has no authority whatever. But, that's the nicest thing about the ex-Army man, he does what he wants, when he

    Hey, everyone. I watched a terrific movie tonight that I thought you might like to hear about. It is a spy flick, which is one of my favorite genres. The title, as you might assume, is Safe House . One might wonder if the name for such residences is entirely apropos after watching this film.     Denzel Washington stars as Tobin Frost, a rogue agent from a CIA background. He has no loyalties to anyone, anymore, other than to himself. He is in the business of avoiding the agents of a dozen intelligence services and of selling secrets to the highest bidder. Let me say right here that I will resist the urge to say that Tobin Frost is a cool guy. That would be sophomoric.      Tobin runs into a bit of a jam. He is in South Africa and has bought some intel from a British agent who is slightly crooked. He takes the info, which is stored on a chip, and injects it into his body with a needle. I find this personally abhorrent and rather gross. It is clear to me that the spy game is not