Winning a Trunk Full of Goodies, Courtesy of Critique Groups at Springmingle

Yeah, that trunk was full of cool writer-ly stuff. But you know Cathy-on-a-Stick. It's not wicked cool till a pic drops in for a mug shot.

(Was that really bad? Or so bad that it was good? Please use the sandwich method if you'd like to critique.)

Wheee! Alliteration! (Okay, A Tongue Twister)

Cathy on a scarfed Stick, sitting on several snowy stumps, smiling.

(She skipped the swing set. That's just being ridiculous.)

Bopping Around in Bethlehem

The week before Christmas is a jolly time to dash over to Bethlehem. Cathy-on-a-Stick joined me to help send out cards. Honestly, she wasn't much help. She's lucky she didn't get mailed herself.

And then I had to stop so she could take a closer look at this upcoming event.

Guess I'll be heading back to Bethlehem.

Mi Birthday Es Su Birthday

So the pics-on-sticks gathered around the birthday laptop to celebrate, thanks to the Beneficent Mr. Hall. I guess it's true. Sometimes you feel like a nut. Sometimes, you don't. (Don't Even Ask Cathy-on-a-Stick couldn't make it. I'm not sure why. But there's a good reason why she's called Don't Even Ask Cathy-on-a-Stick.)

Psychic Opporstickities

I just had a feeling that Chip Coffey, psychic and medium, would be an interesting show. So I brought Cathy-on-a-Stick along, hoping to get some kind of psychic reading. To wit:

Would she ever find the Stick Guy of her dreams?

Were there any little toothpicks in her future?

What about lucrative job opporstickities?

Cathy-on-a-Stick didn't get any answers yet. But I'm seeing something...hold on, it's getting clearer. Ah, there it is. Cathy-on-a-Stick Coffey Stirrers.

Pardon Me Boys! Is This the Cathy-on-a-Stick Choo-Choo?

She was very well-behaved on her train ride. She sat demurely in her seat.


She charmed Ed, our train car attendant. (Who said she was very pretty. Oh, Ed, flattery will get you...)


To the Georgia/Tennessee line.





Pardon me, boys. She came down the line. Now she'll wash up and smell fine.

Where, Oh Where, Has Cathy on a Stick Been?

Finally. Cathy-on-a-Stick is back. But I feel I should offer a brief explanation.

See, it's not like I haven't been going places, doing things, seeing folks. There was the Eiffel Tower in Paris ("Just a beeg, giant teenker toy," said COS in a very bad imitation of a French accent) and the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona ("Mad cows chasing ID-iots," said COS in an even worse imitation of a Spanish accent) and the Great Sphinx of Giza ("If I wanted sand and heat, I'd go to Tybee," said COS in what I guess she thought was an Egyptian accent).


Alas, Cathy on a Stick did not join me. She had fallen (and she can't get up) behind a small chest by the kitchen door. Whilst looking for an errant M & M, I came across COS, dusty and prostrate on the floor. She had some interesting, not to mention unladylike, things to say about that, too (in a passable imitation of a Southerner having a hissy fit).

And now it looks like it could be awhile before she gets to go on a trip with me.

I sent her to the corner.