A Look Inside...For Better or For Worse: Browse The Strips

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Lynn's Comments: It amazes me how resilient and stoic some dogs are with young children. They put up with being sat on, pulled at and strangled. Their patience and good humour is remarkable. They seem to instinctively know that babies don't know any better and just have to learn. On the other hand, some dogs can't tolerate young children at all. Some bark and snarl, some just ignore kids and walk away. Amazing, isn't it... to see how often dogs behave like people!

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Lynn's Comments: This has to be one of my favorite Sunday pages. Aaron often came into my room early in the morning and talked to me while I was half asleep. Katie had no reservations about running outside in the buff. Combine these two elements and I had a good gag. I had fun with the illustration- most of all I loved doing the expressions on the faces of the characters. Facial expressions and body language are as important as the punch line and I erased Michael's sly smile several times before it was right on! Sunday comics like this one were fun to read when they came out in the paper. I would read this strip as if I were a stranger who'd never seen it before. If it made me laugh again then, I knew I had a good one!

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Lynn's Comments: By listing their names, I was able to say "hello" to a number of dear friends in this strip. When it appeared in the paper, I looked forward to their inevitable calls. So often my friends would say, "you'd better not put me in the paper!" But when I did, they were always thrilled.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Lynn's Comments: Here is another word for word exchange between my husband and me. The punch line was exactly as written. I didn't toss a measuring cup--but I sure wanted to. This resulted in his taking over the pressing of his own shirts and clinic gowns--until we hired a housekeeper who came once a week and actually enjoyed ironing!

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Lynn's Comments: After looking for the bathtub plug for some time, I once settled on a spud that fit right into the hole. I'll do anything to have a nice, hot bath! Years later, I was visiting friends in Cuba. A neighbour kindly invited us to her house for dinner and when we went to do the dishes afterwards, there was no plug in the sink. She was about to use a soup pot to wash up in when I saw a basket of fresh potatoes under the counter. I selected one the right size and popped it into the hole.

Potato is "papa" in Spanish and the word for plug is "tapa". So, I said, "Look! You have a papa for a tapa!" She laughed and I promised her that I would bring her a plug the next day. My friends and I went to every hardware store in Havana and could not find a simple rubber stopper for a sink! There were a number of things we couldn't find: a large garbage pail with a lid, a good pair of scissors, and masking tape--these things are found everywhere back home. I couldn't believe that these small, useful items that we all take for granted were so hard to find.

The following year, I went back to Cuba. I took our friend a plug for her sink and a number of other things. She was more than pleased--she was grateful. Circumstances there are different now. Cuba has opened up and stores are able to carry more products. I still visit my friends and we always recall the time I used a papa for a tapa... a little trick I brought from home.

Sunday, March 18, 2012

Lynn's Comments: Eddy King, our local barber, was a neighbour and friend. Our cabins on Berge Lake were side by side. Whenever Rod had a chance to talk to Eddie, it was usually a long conversation. When it came to giving a haircut, Eddie would cut for as long as the conversation lasted. Occasionally, Rod would come home with almost no hair left --I hated it! I kept hoping that next time he had his hair cut, they would have much less to say!

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Lynn's Comments: Because of the three-hour time difference between Ontario and Vancouver, we had a hard time making phone calls. Either my folks were having dinner (and hated to be disturbed) or we were. If I called during the day, the kids were out. In the afternoon, my folks were out. The odd time we had a conversation (at a good time for both parties) everyone wanted to talk at once!

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Lynn's Comments: This is another strip that brought in the mail. "Never get sick on a weekend" could have been the title of a book as stories of interrupted sleep, well-meaning remedies, and all the things a mom still has to attend to despite fever and chills, came rolling in. No matter what I was going through, the letters I received told me I was far from alone!

Sunday, March 31, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Eldon Park was just down the lane from our house in Lynn Lake. It was a small space; room enough for a roundabout, a slide, and a three-seater swing set. The Kinsmen took care of the grounds and the equipment, and thanks to them, we had an Easter egg hunt each year. It was always a skirmish when the big kids got to the goodies first. Some parents helped the little kids, much to the annoyance of others, but we always managed to escape an altercation. I remember Katie standing by the fence upset because she couldn't find anything. To me, the eggs were visible everywhere, but when I squatted down to her level, I could see what the problem was. Everything was either too high or buried in the grass, which was too tall for her to see over. Sometimes, you really DO have to look at things from your child's point of view!

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Lynn's Comments: One of the children's books I loved best was about a family of rabbits who painted the woods with all the colours of the rainbow. In spring they painted the buds bright green, in the fall they painted the leaves different colours, and in winter, they painted the shadows on the snow. Even now, whenever I see long turquoise-grey shadows stretching across a snowy lane, I remember the illustrations in that book.

Sunday, January 26, 2014

Lynn's Comments: When I drew this strip, I weighed 130 lbs. I was in the best physical shape I'd ever been and I still felt chubby. Like most women, I was down on myself for not being shaped like the girls on the covers of magazines! No matter how hard I exercised or how much weight I lost, I'd never be able to achieve that model shape. The "ideal" was never going to be me.

I have been going through old photographs lately looking for things to put in our latest treasury book and I came across a rare photo of yours-truly in a bathing suit. The first thing I said to myself was, "Wow! I didn't look so bad after all!" Strange how your perception of self can change over the years.

And, no --you can't see the photo!

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Lynn's Comments: My mom used to put my hair into what she called "bunches." She would pull my hair so tight, my eyes watered and the elastics made my head ache. When I had a daughter, I decided I wouldn't force anything like this on her, but I did want to learn how to do French braids. Kate wouldn't let me practice. No matter how I approached the subject, she was uninterested, until I offered to PAY her to let me braid her hair. Eventually this didn't work, and I gave up. I figured that I'd never see my girl with her thick, dark tresses in a hairstyle I loved. Until one day, she appeared with a perfect set of French braids, neatly tied together with a white bow. She had done them herself!

Sunday, March 16, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Another real incident--but I was the one who made the hole in the track pants and my mother was the one who couldn't imagine how it had happened!

Sunday, August 3, 2014

Lynn's Comments: I did this Sunday page after I was squeezed in half by a sadistically designed lawn chair. I brought the chair into my studio and drew the exact position it was in when it maimed me. I felt relieved and vindicated even before the art was published. This job came with unlimited and curative benefits. I was jubilant when I took the chair to the dump.

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Our house in Corbeil was hidden in quite a dense forest, so leaves and clippings could easily be tossed into the woods or piled somewhere for compost. Our house in Dundas, though (on which the Pattersons' house was based), was in a busy, upscale neighbourhood, where leaves had to be piled, pushed into bags, and left for city workers to remove. After a discussion about the waste we made with plastic bags, I decided to take a load of leaves to the dump myself, but in the back of the car, bagless. I only did this once. It was a nuisance, a mess, and created a lot of work!

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Lynn's Comments: How wild your imagination becomes if someone you love is late coming home. You're sure they're safe, but--what if? What if your family is one of those about whom the headlines are written? After all, it's the luck of the draw. Nobody is absolutely secure. Bad things can happen to any of us. In your mind, you go from imagining fatal accidents to acts of violence to kidnapping--all the stuff you see in the movies. Perhaps what we do is prepare ourselves for the worst. Maybe this is a good exercise, but it's often far too stressful and far too frightening.

When folks ask how writers come up with so many weird ideas, I use the "missing at night" scenario to explain: Give yourself a situation in which you have no control, something that could go in any direction--this is when your writer's hat goes on. You want to resolve the situation now; you want to be able to handle whatever happens, and so you let your imagination loose. The next thing you know, you are in the mind of a writer. One small idea bubbles into another. Could there have been an accident?

You visualize this awful possibility: the car, the people inside. Are they on a roadside? In the water? Soon, you're bringing in sirens--an ambulance and police to the scene. You go from imagining the accident to living through the aftermath: the hospital, the anguish, the lives on the line. You argue with nurses, you fight for the right to know. You call relatives and tell them the news. You wait for the recovery, or you plan for the wake. This is how a writer works; even though you're telling a story, you feel as though it's real.

For a writer, imagination is a gift. For someone who is waiting and wondering, it's a nuisance. The good thing is, by the time you reach the most agonizing chapter in your imaginary scenario, your missing person shows up and you have nothing to show for your night of woe but relief. And--isn't that a great way for this all to end?

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Lynn's Comments: About three months ago, I took a few days to clean out all my kitchen and studio drawers. I discovered pens, pencils, erasers, tape, scissors, glue, push pins--enough to open a small shop. I put everything away where it should be and made sure to place supplies close to the phones. Yesterday, I called a friend to ask for an address--and I couldn't find a pen!!

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Lynn's Comments: A few years ago, I lost a load of weight. I was thrilled with myself, and in celebration, I gave away all my larger clothing--swearing to the walls and windows that I would never gain back those excess pounds. Last week, I went looking for a favourite pair of pants only to realize they had been jettisoned during my THIN period. Pity. They would have fit me quite nicely, now!

Sunday, July 12, 2015

Lynn's Comments: When I did this strip, my husband and I had a Cessna 185 with amphibious floats. Much of our time was devoted to flying and to looking after the plane. My husband was a serious and well-trained pilot, and when he bought our son, Aaron, a model aircraft, he was sure he could fly it as well as he flew the Cessna. He quickly discovered that a model requires very different skills. This is yet another comic strip based on a scene from real life, and I don't think I asked for approval!

Sunday, August 30, 2015

Lynn's Comments: I was particularly happy with this Sunday page. If a strip made ME laugh out loud, then I knew I had a good one in the bank!

Sunday, October 4, 2015

Lynn's Comments: I received countless letters from folks who told me that their dog hated peas as much as Farley did. I mean, they really hated peas! You'd think an animal that will happily chow down on road kill, old bones, and horse manure would (if covered in gravy) eat anything! --Who knew?

Sunday, January 3, 2016

Lynn's Comments: My son, Aaron, really did stick his tongue to the school flagpole. A frantic teacher called me and I ran to the school in time to see one of the staff trying to pour hot coffee down the flagpole to warm it up. Another said to just pull him off, so I worked at his tongue, which was stretched like an elastic, and his teacher pulled him. With an "OUCH!" he was finally free. I thought he'd be upset, but Aaron was quite proud. When he'd stopped nursing his sore tongue, he happily pointed to the pole where a number of small, fuzzy spots marked battles with other frozen tongues. "Here's Cathy, and here's Bryan, and here's--" I guess it's a rite of passage: every kid has to see if the warning has merit--and every generation discovers that it does.

Sunday, January 17, 2016

Lynn's Comments: I went to visit Farley Mowat not long after the movie "Never Cry Wolf" had been released. It was based on a book Farley had written about his experience in Canada's north where, as a naturalist, he lived with wolves to see if they truly were the menace man believes them to be. He lived the way they live. He ate what they ate. In one scene, he is eating raw, wild mice; one of the most memorable parts of the movie. When I asked Farley if he really DID eat mice, he smiled and said, "My dear, I'm a writer. If something didn't happen, it SHOULD have."

This is the long way of telling you that what Elizabeth is doing in this Sunday strip never happened but it should have. Watching Katie open and pour a can of apple juice, I thought: If she'd made multiple openings, the scene might just have gone just like this.