I've mentioned how much I love a dry sense of humor and sarcasm.
My brother is masterful in the art of repartee.
I usually speak to him via G-Mail. I see his little circle lit up in an inviting green and toss out a hi. Or while I'm slugging away at something that seems like the thing to do to move my writing career forward... whamo! A happy little G-Mail Chat box pops up out of nowhere with a greeting from my brother.
I spied his green circle tonight and since I'm avoiding some things I should be doing I popped over to say "Hi! Lil Brudder." We chatted. He hadn't gotten the low down on the puppies yet.
Oh, by the way, the puppies have found a teeny feral kitten who has wormed his way into our house. We are foster care - but unfortunately, the kitten excels in potty training and cuteness and takes no effort on our part - and the foster thing keeps slipping further and further away from our active thought processes.
The puppies come across as liquid spewing giants in comparison to this well-behaved kitten. I will admit that the puppies are even cuter than they were when we got them.
And about as well potty trained.
I'm not kidding.
So I shared the detail of potty training kitten vs puppies with my brother. He said. "Yeah, it's not an accident that puppy starts with P and has a little pp in the middle."
Did I mention I was in a bad mood when I said hi? So I laughed. "You didn't just make that up!"
"I did. I was just thinking that all that was left is u asking y."
So trying to be clever and build on this, I said. "Good thing the girl named them Lily and Lola instead of Cappucinno and Latte like she considered."
And he did it again. "Caffeine is a diuretic, so it was a close call."
Thanks for the laugh, Lil Brudder.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Scribbles and Scrambles - Christian Attack Dogs
I've written about this before...this being the lack of love the world sees when they take a peek into Christianity. But good things bear repeating. And frankly, I'm tired. So here goes.
I just read this.
I don't want to repeat what's in the article. I don't want to debate the doctrine of sanctification, imply that I'm emergent in my thinking, or that holiness doesn't matter to me.
The Word of God is life. But the Word of God is Jesus, Himself, as well as the black and white crinkly pages I read.
I'm weary of listening to the charges that Christians bring against one another. This issue infects the local church. And is within the battles marked by denominational lines drawn in the sand. I can't see evidence of hurting, seeking souls finding the love of Jesus, His healing, His hope in the midst of this war of words.
Are we called to polish up this thing called Christianity? Is that why we remain on earth? Spiritual janitors making sure that all items are dusted and left exactly as they were when He left. Or is God capable of protecting His own reputation and words as He has done for centuries?
Why is love the identifying mark of a Christian? How do we justify twisting it so it doesn't look anything like 1 Cor 13? And when are we going to see real love within our religion? Or is that the problem? Religion instead of love.
I just read this.
I don't want to repeat what's in the article. I don't want to debate the doctrine of sanctification, imply that I'm emergent in my thinking, or that holiness doesn't matter to me.
The Word of God is life. But the Word of God is Jesus, Himself, as well as the black and white crinkly pages I read.
I'm weary of listening to the charges that Christians bring against one another. This issue infects the local church. And is within the battles marked by denominational lines drawn in the sand. I can't see evidence of hurting, seeking souls finding the love of Jesus, His healing, His hope in the midst of this war of words.
Are we called to polish up this thing called Christianity? Is that why we remain on earth? Spiritual janitors making sure that all items are dusted and left exactly as they were when He left. Or is God capable of protecting His own reputation and words as He has done for centuries?
Why is love the identifying mark of a Christian? How do we justify twisting it so it doesn't look anything like 1 Cor 13? And when are we going to see real love within our religion? Or is that the problem? Religion instead of love.
Serials and Scenarios - Catherine Palmer - Sense and Season
I had an opportunity to interview Catherine Palmer, co-author of the Four Seasons of Marriage series with Dr. Gary Palmer. Visit the Summer Breeze Amazon by clicking on the book cover. For a review, click here.
Thanks so much, Catherine. It was fun getting to know you.
Fiction character you would most like to be or most identify with and why?
I’d love to be Mma Precious Ramotswe in Alexander McCall Smith’s series THE NO. 1 LADIES’ DETECTIVE AGENCY. Mma Ramotswe is a loving, intelligent woman who does her best to help everyone she meets. She’s totally comfortable with her size 22 “traditional build” and her tiny white van. Most of all, she lives in Botswana. I grew up as the daughter of missionaries to Kenya, and I love Africa!
If you could ask any person, living or dead, a random question -- what question would you ask of whom?
I’d ask Mahatma Gandhi why he never became a Christian even though he seemed to admire and understand Christ so well. I’d also love to have a nice long chat with Osama bin Laden. My number one question – What incident in your life initiated your hatred of Americans?
Some out there in writing land have strange rituals. Share yours.
Nothing too strange. Just a lot of tea drinking.
If you could change something in any novel, what would you change about it and why?
I’d create more easily read versions of Jane Austen’s books so everyone today could enjoy them.
What crayon in the box describes you on a good day? Bad day? Which one do you aspire to be?
On a good day, I’m “Cornflower Blue.” On a bad day, I’m “Burnt Sienna.” I wish I could be “Turquoise.”
Pick one…..Pink iguana, purple cow, periwinkle giraffe. Which one and why? Can be negative or positive.
Periwinkle giraffe – no way! I grew up in Africa. That would be the first one taken down by the lionesses. Kwaheri, Giraffe.
Favorite turn of phrase or word picture, in literature or movie.
Mr. Darcy (in Pride and Prejudice): My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.
Elizabeth Bennet: That is a failing indeed.
If you were assured of writing a best-seller, what genre would it be? Give us a sliver of information, a characteristic or glimpse of a scene.
My favorite genres seem to change almost by the day. Maybe that’s why I write in so many of them. Right now, I’m in a Regency frame of mind. I’d introduce an arrogant lord to a spunky housemaid. Oh wait. I already did that in THE BACHELOR’S BARGAIN!
What period of history intrigues you the most?
That’s a tough one. I love history. Right now I’m into the Regency, but I’d also like to know more about ancient sub-Saharan Africa, British-era India, and medieval England.
What would you write if there were no rules or barriers? (epic novels about characters in the Bible, poetry, greeting cards, plays, movies, instruction manuals, etc.)
I love writing books, but I’d also enjoy writing screenplays.
What makes you feel alive?
People. I especially love being around people with a multitude of nationalities, skin colors, languages, and backgrounds. That’s where I’m most at home.
How does something worm its way into your heart? Through tears, truth, humor or other?
I have to admit I’m a sap. I am SO drawn to sad, heartbreaking stories. On the other hand, if it’s a book or a movie, I must have a happy ending. If it’s real life, then I’m inspired to do whatever I can to help turn the sadness into joy.
Book, music, person, food you would take with you on a very long trip.
A very long trip? My husband, of course! I totally love that guy. We’re coming up on our 30th wedding anniversary.
Where would you most like to travel ----- moon, north pole, deep seas, deserted island, the holy land or back to a place from your childhood, somewhere else? – and why.
Easy. I’d go back to childhood – to Mombasa on the coast of Kenya with my mom and dad and my sister. We’d stay in our favorite thatch-roofed house with sea breezes wafting through the windows. We would walk on the white sand, snorkel out to the reef, collect shells, and stroll down to a beach-side hotel to get big glasses of mango juice. Those were the happiest days of my life.
Favorite season and why?
Believe it or not, I don’t like seasons. How ironic for an author writing about THE FOUR SEASONS OF MARRIAGE. Ha! Having grown up on the equator in a land of eternal flowers, occasional rains, and plenty of sun all year round, I’d love to live that way again.
Favorite book setting and why?
Right now, Regency. I love the clash of the classes.
Which compliment related to your writing has meant the most and why?
When a reader tells me that my book brought them closer to the Lord or strengthened their faith in some way, I’m touched to tears. That is my goal.
What criticism has cut the deepest and why?
I try not to focus on the negative. It makes it hard for me to write if I’m discouraged.
What would you do today if you knew you had only a week to live?
I’d spend time with all the people I love the most. I’m really looking forward to going to heaven, though, so I wouldn’t be panic stricken.
What is your favorite word?
Love.
What word annoys you more than any other?
Dental floss (okay, that’s two words)
Favorite chore
Weeding my garden on a cool, non-buggy day.
Anything you’d do but don’t because of fear of pain? What is it? Ex. Bungee jumping, sky diving, running with scissors.
Scuba diving.
Grammatical pet peeve…sound off.
Apostrophes in the wrong place. Aaaarrrrrrgh!!!!
Societal pet peeve…sound off.
Nose picking in public. Don’t do it. Just don’t.
CREATIVE CORNER:
I’m going to leave this fascinating section to your readers! If you want to know how I handle creativity, please read my books. Being creative is what I’m all about.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Serials and Scenarios - Mynheir's Marks....
Mark Mynheir dropped in and left a mark... wait til you read his mini-story created just for us.
Good stuff. You like it? You need to get your hands on his books.
Fiction character you would most like to be or most identify with and why?
Jason Bourne, because he can Kung Fu people really well.
What crayon in the box describes you on a good day? Bad day? Which one do you aspire to be?
Rose and black. Very Black. I aspire for rosy days when an eternal wellspring of ideas and phrases bubble forth from my brain to the page with relative ease. (Those days don’t happen often.) Unfortunately, I have to put up with those “very black” days when I stare at a blank screen like a zombie and stress out about my deadline. I’m working on it, though.
Favorite turn of phrase or word picture, in literature or movie.
“This was no boating accident!” Richard Dreyfuss, Jaws. I try to say it at least once at every crime scene.
What period of history intrigues you the most?
WWII. Because the world hung in the balance. Good guys, bad guys. Axis, allies. Great stuff.
What would you write if there were no rules or barriers? (epic novels about characters in the Bible, poetry, greeting cards, plays, movies, instruction manuals, etc.)
I would probably continue to write mystery/suspense novels. I’m blessed to able to write the stories I love. If I had more time, I might want to try some screenplays, but who knows what the future holds.
What makes you feel alive?
Anything dangerous and mildly stupid. I’ve done some alligator hunting before, and that was a blast, but my wife has suggested that I NOT do that any more. I think police work has made me a bit of an adrenaline junkie.
How does something worm its way into your heart? Through tears, truth, humor or other?
Tears and humor. I think that’s true with most people. We want to be moved, be it with humor or sorrow.
Book, music, person, food you would take with you on a very long trip.
Persons. My wife and kids. I don’t think they’d let me go on a very long trip without them, especially if it’s somewhere nice.
Where would you most like to travel ----- moon, north pole, deep seas, deserted island, the holy land or back to a place from your childhood, somewhere else? – and why.
Israel. It’s where Jesus walked, and the whole world seems to be watching it right now. I’d also like to go to Australia. Not nearly for the spiritual reasons of Israel, but it just seems like it would be a fun place.
Favorite season and why?
Fall. It gets me ready for the Christmas season, and gives us a break from the torturous Florida summers.
Which compliment related to your writing has meant the most and why?
A non-Christian friend of mine told me that he liked my books because I was fair to the non-Christians and didn’t demonize them. It meant a lot coming from him.
What is your favorite word?
Cacophony. I just love the sound of it.
Favorite chore
Mowing the lawn. I can work my stories in my head while putting around the mower.
Anything you'd do but don't because of fear of pain? What is it? Ex. Bungee jumping, sky diving, running with scissors.
I still stay active with martial arts and stuff, but to be honest, I’m over forty—everything hurts. So why worry about it.
Societal pet peeve…sound off.
Not being able to watch a sitcom or hardly any other TV show with my children. It would be nice to a have decent TV shows again that don’t assault my values. Oh well. Enough of the rant.
Pick one of the "story starters" below and give us a sample of your voice.
A crack broke the stillness as Terry tugged on the frozen door. He jerked it once more, the fracture echoing through the quiet, frosty night as the house loosed its grip on the door, swinging it wide open.
Terry raised his flashlight and illuminated the darkened entryway of the long-abandoned home as his partner, Jeremy Wilson, unholstered his Glock 9mm and eased in behind him. They’d worked together long enough to know what to do without having to speak it.
Did someone really hear a cry for help? Or was the ancient wooden home just groaning and shifting under the pressure of the coldest night of the year? They’d have to search it to find out.
Flashlight in one hand, pistol in the other, Terry crept into a living room trapped in a time capsule from twenty years before, the site of the infamous and still unsolved Gaulty murders. Terry’s breath hovered in the room like a hazy apparition. A couch covered with a fine layer of dust and grime rested against the wall, and a reading chair filled the corner. A small coffee table was positioned in middle of the room. A portrait of the Gaulty family hung over the fireplace—a mother and father in the middle, a son and daughter flanking each. The former owners of the home kept watch over them with forced smiles and dark eyes.
He and Jeremy checked one room after another, searching for the source of the eerie 911 call. Terry’s heart pounded like a war drum in his ears and his breathing was short and sharp as they skulked down the hallway to the last room.
They broached the doorway and a silhouette on the bed caught his attention, drawing his flashlight toward the dark lump on the canopy bed. The form took the shape of a motionless man with blue jeans, a green down coat, and a bearded face, gazing at them with a vacant stare Terry had seen a hundred times before. A crimson stain encircled the man on the mattress. Terry shuffled to the side of the bed and slipped his finger on his neck, checking for a pulse. Nothing but slimy skin at room temperature.
“He’s dead.” Terry glanced back at Jeremy and shook his head, swallowing hard. “And I know one thing for sure: this was no boating accident.”
Thanks, Mark. Hope we can all sleep this weekend....
Good stuff. You like it? You need to get your hands on his books.
Fiction character you would most like to be or most identify with and why?
Jason Bourne, because he can Kung Fu people really well.
What crayon in the box describes you on a good day? Bad day? Which one do you aspire to be?
Rose and black. Very Black. I aspire for rosy days when an eternal wellspring of ideas and phrases bubble forth from my brain to the page with relative ease. (Those days don’t happen often.) Unfortunately, I have to put up with those “very black” days when I stare at a blank screen like a zombie and stress out about my deadline. I’m working on it, though.
Favorite turn of phrase or word picture, in literature or movie.
“This was no boating accident!” Richard Dreyfuss, Jaws. I try to say it at least once at every crime scene.
What period of history intrigues you the most?
WWII. Because the world hung in the balance. Good guys, bad guys. Axis, allies. Great stuff.
What would you write if there were no rules or barriers? (epic novels about characters in the Bible, poetry, greeting cards, plays, movies, instruction manuals, etc.)
I would probably continue to write mystery/suspense novels. I’m blessed to able to write the stories I love. If I had more time, I might want to try some screenplays, but who knows what the future holds.
What makes you feel alive?
Anything dangerous and mildly stupid. I’ve done some alligator hunting before, and that was a blast, but my wife has suggested that I NOT do that any more. I think police work has made me a bit of an adrenaline junkie.
How does something worm its way into your heart? Through tears, truth, humor or other?
Tears and humor. I think that’s true with most people. We want to be moved, be it with humor or sorrow.
Book, music, person, food you would take with you on a very long trip.
Persons. My wife and kids. I don’t think they’d let me go on a very long trip without them, especially if it’s somewhere nice.
Where would you most like to travel ----- moon, north pole, deep seas, deserted island, the holy land or back to a place from your childhood, somewhere else? – and why.
Israel. It’s where Jesus walked, and the whole world seems to be watching it right now. I’d also like to go to Australia. Not nearly for the spiritual reasons of Israel, but it just seems like it would be a fun place.
Favorite season and why?
Fall. It gets me ready for the Christmas season, and gives us a break from the torturous Florida summers.
Which compliment related to your writing has meant the most and why?
A non-Christian friend of mine told me that he liked my books because I was fair to the non-Christians and didn’t demonize them. It meant a lot coming from him.
What is your favorite word?
Cacophony. I just love the sound of it.
Favorite chore
Mowing the lawn. I can work my stories in my head while putting around the mower.
Anything you'd do but don't because of fear of pain? What is it? Ex. Bungee jumping, sky diving, running with scissors.
I still stay active with martial arts and stuff, but to be honest, I’m over forty—everything hurts. So why worry about it.
Societal pet peeve…sound off.
Not being able to watch a sitcom or hardly any other TV show with my children. It would be nice to a have decent TV shows again that don’t assault my values. Oh well. Enough of the rant.
Pick one of the "story starters" below and give us a sample of your voice.
A crack broke the stillness as Terry tugged on the frozen door. He jerked it once more, the fracture echoing through the quiet, frosty night as the house loosed its grip on the door, swinging it wide open.
Terry raised his flashlight and illuminated the darkened entryway of the long-abandoned home as his partner, Jeremy Wilson, unholstered his Glock 9mm and eased in behind him. They’d worked together long enough to know what to do without having to speak it.
Did someone really hear a cry for help? Or was the ancient wooden home just groaning and shifting under the pressure of the coldest night of the year? They’d have to search it to find out.
Flashlight in one hand, pistol in the other, Terry crept into a living room trapped in a time capsule from twenty years before, the site of the infamous and still unsolved Gaulty murders. Terry’s breath hovered in the room like a hazy apparition. A couch covered with a fine layer of dust and grime rested against the wall, and a reading chair filled the corner. A small coffee table was positioned in middle of the room. A portrait of the Gaulty family hung over the fireplace—a mother and father in the middle, a son and daughter flanking each. The former owners of the home kept watch over them with forced smiles and dark eyes.
He and Jeremy checked one room after another, searching for the source of the eerie 911 call. Terry’s heart pounded like a war drum in his ears and his breathing was short and sharp as they skulked down the hallway to the last room.
They broached the doorway and a silhouette on the bed caught his attention, drawing his flashlight toward the dark lump on the canopy bed. The form took the shape of a motionless man with blue jeans, a green down coat, and a bearded face, gazing at them with a vacant stare Terry had seen a hundred times before. A crimson stain encircled the man on the mattress. Terry shuffled to the side of the bed and slipped his finger on his neck, checking for a pulse. Nothing but slimy skin at room temperature.
“He’s dead.” Terry glanced back at Jeremy and shook his head, swallowing hard. “And I know one thing for sure: this was no boating accident.”
Thanks, Mark. Hope we can all sleep this weekend....
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Scribble and Scrambles - Blog Post on a Stick Part 2
More Iowa State Fair moments…
The Iowa State Fair has never been emblazoned by the theme – “More Fun Than You Can Shake a Stick At” – too bad. A visit to the fair really has the potential of being great stick-shaking fun.
Our family of seven piled into two vehicles early Saturday morning and headed I-80 East.
When our kids were 4-Hers we spent a good part of our summers at either the county or state fair and nostalgia has been pulling at us of late.
My favorite part of the Iowa State Fair was being with my peeps.
No, not the ones in the fowl barn, the ones who live, or used to, in my house. We laughed, whined, guzzled shared water, sweated and walked together for several glorious steamy hours.
And we ate.
Smoothies, funnel cakes, onion blossoms, tenderloins, Mexican food done as only Iowa can, gallons of water, and fresh squeezed lemonade. Yum.
We patted huge draft horses with hooves bigger than our heads, snickered at polka-dotted llamas. Like salmon squeezing upstream we entered and attempted the many rows of vendors in the only air-conditioned building. A few “as seen on TV” demonstrations caught our fancy, but not our money.
This year, we got to see moldy award winning food. The 4-H displays had been sweltering for nine days. Not pretty. Though some cakes decorated in fondant looked fresh as a daisy. I’ve not seen anything prettier in magazines or on the television, one exhibitor even crafted a guitar, drum and amp. The record breaking pumpkin weighing in at over 1,100 pounds putrefied on the lawn.
Photography has to be my all time favorite exhibit, though. From the 4-Hers to the adults, I was awed by the images they captured. Who woulda thought wooden clothespins encased in glassy ice could be so beautiful? And the shots of scenery from exotic to homey transported me to places I’ve never been and places I will never tire of.
There are some very talented people in Iowa.
And speaking of talented people...you must go here tomorrow Friday 8-24-07 (after coming here to read Mark Mynheir's interview, of course.)
I'm doing a regular gig at NovelJourney blogspot(usually every Friday) and I had the opportunity to interview Kevin Alexander from Writers Digest Magazine. Now Kevin isn't exactly a household name, but he's dang funny. And Writers Digest is pretty much THE writing magazine. I so enjoyed bantering with Kevin and I think you'll love his slightly sarcastic answers.
The Iowa State Fair has never been emblazoned by the theme – “More Fun Than You Can Shake a Stick At” – too bad. A visit to the fair really has the potential of being great stick-shaking fun.
Our family of seven piled into two vehicles early Saturday morning and headed I-80 East.
When our kids were 4-Hers we spent a good part of our summers at either the county or state fair and nostalgia has been pulling at us of late.
My favorite part of the Iowa State Fair was being with my peeps.
No, not the ones in the fowl barn, the ones who live, or used to, in my house. We laughed, whined, guzzled shared water, sweated and walked together for several glorious steamy hours.
And we ate.
Smoothies, funnel cakes, onion blossoms, tenderloins, Mexican food done as only Iowa can, gallons of water, and fresh squeezed lemonade. Yum.
We patted huge draft horses with hooves bigger than our heads, snickered at polka-dotted llamas. Like salmon squeezing upstream we entered and attempted the many rows of vendors in the only air-conditioned building. A few “as seen on TV” demonstrations caught our fancy, but not our money.
This year, we got to see moldy award winning food. The 4-H displays had been sweltering for nine days. Not pretty. Though some cakes decorated in fondant looked fresh as a daisy. I’ve not seen anything prettier in magazines or on the television, one exhibitor even crafted a guitar, drum and amp. The record breaking pumpkin weighing in at over 1,100 pounds putrefied on the lawn.
Photography has to be my all time favorite exhibit, though. From the 4-Hers to the adults, I was awed by the images they captured. Who woulda thought wooden clothespins encased in glassy ice could be so beautiful? And the shots of scenery from exotic to homey transported me to places I’ve never been and places I will never tire of.
There are some very talented people in Iowa.
And speaking of talented people...you must go here tomorrow Friday 8-24-07 (after coming here to read Mark Mynheir's interview, of course.)
I'm doing a regular gig at NovelJourney blogspot(usually every Friday) and I had the opportunity to interview Kevin Alexander from Writers Digest Magazine. Now Kevin isn't exactly a household name, but he's dang funny. And Writers Digest is pretty much THE writing magazine. I so enjoyed bantering with Kevin and I think you'll love his slightly sarcastic answers.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Serials and Scenarios - The Void
Click on the book cover to find out more about The Void.
Visit Mark Mynheir.
My Review:
I can't believe I haven't yet discovered Mark Mynheir's previous novels.
Mynheir is an author worth watching.
Tense, tight prose, fascinating police-work details, strong grasp of point of view, and a spine-tingling plot sucked me into The Void and didn't let me go until the heart-twisting conclusion.
Though part of a series, I found this novel to be comfortable as a stand alone. I didn't feel overwhelmed with backstory nor did I feel like I'd thoroughly missed a chunk of previous life that would have helped flesh this story out.
Though part of a series, I found this novel to be comfortable as a stand alone. I didn't feel overwhelmed with backstory nor did I feel like I'd thoroughly missed a chunk of previous life that would have helped flesh this story out.
I will head back and pick up the titles I've missed.
Suspense lovers, police novel fans, great story junkies...pick up The Void. Like Dekker, Hines, Liparulo, Gansky, Wilson or Collins? Add Mynheir to your list.
Suspense lovers, police novel fans, great story junkies...pick up The Void. Like Dekker, Hines, Liparulo, Gansky, Wilson or Collins? Add Mynheir to your list.
Come back Friday (8-24-07) for Mark's Dreg interview. He wrote a scene that curled my toes.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Scribble and Scrambles - Blog Post on a Stick
Somehow the Iowa State Fair has become famous for food on sticks.
You’d think we’d have exhausted all the possibilities after 153 years. Apparently not. According to a Des Moines Register trivia quiz we lack spuds on a stick. Any entrepreneurs out there may want to consider spending the year formulating a whole new spud experience and getting your name on a vendor list.
Let me know if you’ll be doing this and I’ll be happy to give you some blog promotion.
Though I didn’t go looking for food on a stick, apparently, sticked varieties of Twinkies, cheesecake, lamb or pork chops were available. I did experience one unique stick item. I wouldn’t have purchased it, and I don’t think it’s going to catch on, but it was free and moderately tasty.
Ready? The Egg Council handed out….egg on a stick. Hard-boiled, of course.
One other stick item stuck out. In the arts building one of the vendors sold Origami on a stick.
I suggest the following – funnel cake on a stick, onion bloom on a stick and Grand Champion Rocky Mountain Oyster on a stick.
You’d think we’d have exhausted all the possibilities after 153 years. Apparently not. According to a Des Moines Register trivia quiz we lack spuds on a stick. Any entrepreneurs out there may want to consider spending the year formulating a whole new spud experience and getting your name on a vendor list.
Let me know if you’ll be doing this and I’ll be happy to give you some blog promotion.
Though I didn’t go looking for food on a stick, apparently, sticked varieties of Twinkies, cheesecake, lamb or pork chops were available. I did experience one unique stick item. I wouldn’t have purchased it, and I don’t think it’s going to catch on, but it was free and moderately tasty.
Ready? The Egg Council handed out….egg on a stick. Hard-boiled, of course.
One other stick item stuck out. In the arts building one of the vendors sold Origami on a stick.
I suggest the following – funnel cake on a stick, onion bloom on a stick and Grand Champion Rocky Mountain Oyster on a stick.
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