CE Wills

    Hey, everyone. I watched a terrific, older movie tonight with Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck. It's called Roman Holiday and begins with Joe Brady (Peck) finding Anne(Hepburn) sleeping on a park bench in Rome. It is late and Joe hates to leave her on the bench. She is scarcely homeless, since she is a Princess who has ran away from home. Princess Anne is weary to death of her velvet prison, the tedium of royal B.S. I'm sure Prince Harry could identify. I would hate to endure the endless boring affairs and social functions. I don't think I would like my underlings telling me what to do and where to go and throwing 'my duty' in my face. Of course, it is very similar with our President, I suppose.       Anyway. Joe doesn't know that she is the Princess of  wherever. He doesn't know that her handlers have given her a sedative. He takes her to his apartment and honorably, some would say stupidly, lets her sleep on his couch. Joe is a report...

      Hey, everyone, and I hope the holidays find you content and healthy. The title of this post is a bit misleading, since I am already home and plan to be home for Christmas. I'll have to figure out why I used that title in a moment.       This is Christmas Eve, of course. I am sitting here next to the window so I can hear the Fed-Ex guy, should he arrive. I was tracking a package for someone that should remain unnamed. This parcel left a local place around 6 A.M. this morning and should arrive today. Oh, it is not that big of a deal if it arrives after Christmas.      Unfortunately, I don't have a lot of top-secret, devious, underhanded, fun plots in the works for Christmas. I thought seriously about a 'Santa' scheme. When my boys were young, we did the traditional thing and awoke in the middle of the night to place some stuff under the tree from Santa. If there was a bicycle to put together or an AT/...

   Hey, everyone. For the last few weeks I have been investigating the high-stakes, live on the razor's edge world of gaming. It happened on this wise.     I have been just a tad aggravated with I-Pad gaming for reasons that I have talked about at length on these pages. So, I borrowed an X-Box 360 for the purpose of ascertaining if it would be a feasible source of amusement for a guy with 60 plus years under his belt. I had tried it once before but the controls seemed difficult compared to my Padster. In fact, the tech seemed, dare I say it?) shrouded in the mists of the past compared to touch screen controls on my I-Pad Air.     This time around, I was determined to give it a fair try and play it for a few days or weeks until I decided whether or not to invest in a PS4, a PS3, an X-Box One or an X-Box 360. True to form, I exhaustively read reviews and sought counseling about the matter. My gaming mentor, the doughty Trevor, said tha...

    Hey, everyone. I thought I'd tell you folks from foreign climes a bit about another odd custom we have here in the U.S.A. It involves ritual torture of eggs, among other things. We call it deviled eggs and it is a bit different than what springs to mind at the term. Sure, you picture an imp sticking a pitchfork into the quivering egg, while laughing diabolically. It is not like that and no eggs were harmed in the making of this blog.     Oh, about the title. Check out the picture of this egg, which had a navel. Cool, huh? It was an 'inny' not an 'outey'. Does this point to some genetic deformity in the egg? Perhaps. Who knows what kinkiness hides behind the hard-shelled facade of egg-dom?     What we do is boil a bunch of eggs. Then we peel the eggs, giving them a ceremonial bath; then cut them in half, pulling the yolks from the eggs. We then fill the white parts with a paste that looks suspiciously like a concoction of...

    Hey, everyone. It has been a slow, laid-back day at the green retreat. Don't believe me? Well, allow me to share. We woke up early, though neither of us worked. Carley fixed a big breakfast, bacon, biscuits and gravy, eggs. We did a few chores, then we went to Wal-Mart. I wanted to see how long it took them to sell out of the new X-Box One. She wanted to buy two big turkey ovens to cook the Thanksgiving meal. She does a turkey and a ham.     I was informed that the only X-box Ones they sold were those pre-ordered on line and picked up at the store. I didn't want one but I was interested to see if this was going to be another will-of-the-wisp, a Tech Unicorn. Probably.       I flirt with purchases and never pull the trigger, as you know. I read on my Padster this morning an article about one of the flagship games for the new system. It's called Rhys of Rome , I think. It sounds impressive. It's about a Roman General who is trying to sa...

   Hey, everyone. As you know, Halloween is approaching and I like to do a spooky post occasionally.( By the way, check out the tab (label) at the bottom of this post that says 'Spooky'. Especially, you should read Campfire Song, The Old Man In the Straw Hat and The White Sign .) Anyway, this is a true story.     The other evening I got a message on my I-Pad that says, "Google Maps has requested access to your microphone." Weird, since I have never even used that app, or at least not recently. No big deal, I like a good joke as much as anybody. So, I push "Don't Allow" and go to the Google Maps app and delete it.      Then today, I had been reading the morning news on different sites and had closed the Padster and placed it on my keyboard (music keyboard). As I walked to the kitchen I heard a soft ding and returned to open the 'smart cover' on the device, thinking I'd gotten an email.    To my surprise the screen was filled ...

     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...