Suddenly Silver: Browse The Strips

Monday, May 7, 2012

Lynn's Comments: Living on my own and working freelance meant that I was always very short of cash. One of the things I hated most was asking my clients for the money they owed me. I did all the right stuff; I had a proper billing system and a business license. All I needed was to be paid on time. It amazed me when people who could well afford to pay, made me wait for weeks--sometimes months...or didn't pay at all. I had to become more assertive, but it was hard!

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Lynn's Comments: Situations like this are not uncommon for freelance artists, writers, and musicians. The philosophy seems to be; "The skill comes FREE to you, so it should come free to me, too!" This same freeloader wouldn't think of not paying their dry-waller or mechanic, but artists are used and abused! It's all part of the education you need in order to survive. You soon learn to value your own work, and to defend your right to make a living by it!

Friday, May 11, 2012

Lynn's Comments: Going back to the story of the Nova Scotia magazine and the unpaid bill: We artists are a clan. We stand up for each other. A large, aggressive illustrator I knew was heading home to the east coast to visit his family. I told him about the magazine, which had commissioned an illustration from me and refused to pay because they had used another artist's work. He happened to know the editor of this magazine and promised to see what he could do. A few weeks later, he came to my home with a cheque for fifty dollars--the amount I was owed. I was thrilled. I asked what he had done to convince the editor to pay my bill. He said, "Well, after I reached over, grabbed his shirt, and pulled him across his desk, he thought it might be a good idea to pay up."

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Lynn's Comments: This strip brought in a lot of mail. People said they prayed for the safety and well being of their pets as much as they did for friends and family.

Monday, December 10, 2012

Lynn's Comments: Both my kids loved to go Christmas shopping. They still do! Finding the right thing for the right person is exciting, and in our family, funny gifts are the best. One of the best gifts I remember as a kid was a skipping rope. With cardboard and glue my dad made the longest, thinnest box in the world. He placed the skipping rope in it full-length, then wrapped it and put it under the tree. For the life of me, I couldn't imagine what it was, and when I opened it, I laughed and laughed. The parcel itself was almost better than the gift!

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Lynn's Comments: For years, Dad worked in the jewellery and giftware business. A lot of the stuff I thought was gaudy or too expensive but one year, a glass fairy caught my eye. Her face, hands, and legs were frosted glass, her wings and clothing were clear. She sat on a "tuffet" of pebbly, textured glass--and I thought she was beautiful. I must have been about twelve when I asked for her as a gift. She was given to me for Christmas and was the first breakable piece I ever owned. This little fairy sat on my dressing table until I left home. I wish I had taken her with me because she disappeared when my folks sold the house and moved away. She was the model for this Christmas story and I still hope she's around--perhaps on another child's dressing table--still unbroken and still loved.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Lynn's Comments: This comes from a joke my dad used to tell about a man and his son who got onto an elevator. I can't recall the joke, but I always remembered the punch line, which was: "If anyone hears anything or smells anything--it's my dad!"

Saturday, December 15, 2012

Lynn's Comments: Whenever we kids went into dad's shop, we were told "Look, but don't touch." He'd also say, "You can't break something by looking at it." One day, I was looking at the corrugated board my mother used for stringing pearls. One of the services our business provided was the cleaning and restringing of quality bead necklaces--and Mom was an expert at this. I couldn't help myself, I had to run my fingers down a row of pearls just to see what they felt like. The row of pearls rolled off the groove of the board onto the floor with a wild tinkling clatter. Dad spun around when he heard them fall and ran towards me. "Honest! ... I was just LOOKING!" I told him. We both got down on the floor--desperate to find each and every one before Mom could see what had happened. Unfortunately, she returned before we finished picking up the pearls, and as her eyes fell on me, with his usual comic timing, Dad looked up at her and cried, "Honest ... I was just LOOKING!"

Monday, December 17, 2012

Lynn's Comments: One of the things I loved about my dad was that he took things in stride. He didn't get too upset when something got broken. Stuff, after all, was just stuff, and what couldn't be repaired could be replaced. As long as it hadn't been maliciously done, occasional breakage was not a big deal. We did, after all, have a gift shop, and china got broken in transit all the time.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Lynn's Comments: Mom was a master at repairing things. She could glue and sand and paint and varnish almost anything so that the crack, chip, or missing piece was restored. This meant that anything broken at the store that was salvageable, made it's way home. We had, therefore, a plethora of pots, vases, statuettes, and collectible objects strategically placed about the house. At the time, smoking was fashionable. On every table, armchair, and bookshelf was an ashtray with a butt in every one. Dusting the china and cleaning the ashtrays was often my job, and when I got to be a teenager, I swore that when I had a place of my own, it would have no bric-a-brac or dust-collecting junk anywhere. That was then. I now have my share of detritus but it's all in cabinets and there are no ashtrays!

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Lynn's Comments: The story about the glass angel was a sort of feel-good Christmas story. It eventually became the outline for an animated special called The Christmas Angel.

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Around this time we were both well into our careers, and from time to time, felt like we were stuck in a rut. I guess even the most satisfying jobs can become routine! Taking flying lessons helped me to "stretch my wings," and Rod began a lifelong passion for model railways.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Lynn's Comments: In Vancouver during the 50's, there was a popular children's radio show called, "Kiddie's Carnival." It was done in a small studio with a live audience, which you could be part of by writing into the program and asking for tickets. It was first write, first serve. My mom managed to score two of them. Not only did she and I have tickets, but we were told that I would get to be one of the children allowed to say "hello" on Kiddie's Carnival radio!

It was an exciting day. I had never been in a radio station before and when it was my turn to go up to the microphone, I was terrified. The host was reassuring. He moved the big silver microphone right under my nose and said, "Lynn, it's your turn to say hello! Who would you like to say hello to today?" Meanwhile, my dad was at work. He had the radio on and everyone in Shores Jewellery was listening. Sweating and shaking, I leaned into the mic. and said, "Hello, Grandma and Grandpa!" Dad was crushed. He had expected me to say hello to him. I wasn't thinking. I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. When he got home later that evening, it was clear that I had let him down. Mom thought it was nice that I had thought of her parents, though, and decided to call them and ask what they thought of the broadcast. Sadly, they hadn't been listening. To this day, I think about that missed opportunity and I wish that I'd acknowledged the one person to whom it really mattered.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Valentines came in big plastic bags when I was a kid. We'd get, perhaps 25, pretty little cards for a few dollars and we'd give one to everyone in your class. This meant that we all came home with a fistful of valentines. Nobody was left out. It was tradition. In grade one, I had a crush on a boy named Jimmy Thompson. I was crazy about him until Valentine's Day when I gave him a card, but he didn't give a card to anyone. I was hurt--I never knew that his family just couldn't afford them.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Even kids know the art of subtle expression. The way we make eye contact, the way we stand and speak and gesture, are all ways of communicating the way we really feel. Something as simple as watching someone open an envelope, conveys a state of mind. Adults have to be careful... kids are as sensitive to these things as we are!

Saturday, February 16, 2013

Lynn's Comments: I have to admit, when I had a crush on a boy in school, it lasted through rejection, embarrassment, and blatant teasing. When it eventually wore off, it was gone for good. I don't see a lot of difference in the way I handle my relationships now!

Monday, May 27, 2013

Lynn's Comments: This is why schools and daycares are the world's great Petri dishes. Along with the paper plate art projects and newly acquired skills, kids bring home a plethora of microbes. As a young mom, I really resented this bacterial exchange--until it was my turn to decide: is she sick enough to stay home or should I send her?

Friday, May 31, 2013

Lynn's Comments: My brother and I fought a lot when we were kids, and Aaron and Kate did as well. When one kid is sick, however, the other's true colours blossom; any time Kate was ill, Aaron would be so concerned, I would almost have to keep him at home, too.

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Lynn's Comments: I have waited in hospital lounges many times hoping that my presence alone would help to heal or to make someone's illness go away. Perhaps, the vigil is as much for me as it is for the person I worry for. Just by being there, I feel that I'm actually doing something.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Lynn's Comments: I think kids recover from illnesses well because they have such positive attitudes. When I was eighteen, I had my appendix out. Considering myself an adult, I was disappointed to be put in the children's ward. Surrounding me were kids recovering from all kinds of serious things, and all I could hear was laughter, music, and the sounds of the day. When I visited the adult ward, there were complaints, depression, subdued conversation, and an "old" smell. I was then glad to be where I was.

Saturday, June 8, 2013

Lynn's Comments: This is such an old gag image, but I had to use it here. I actually showed Aaron how to squeeze our garden hose to stop the water flowing--so he could "surprise" someone. Naturally, I was his first surprisee!

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Lynn's Comments: When this strip appeared, I had immediate responses from stargazers who told me that on that date in our time zone, the crescent would be going in the other direction. They were right. From this time on, I made sure I checked out the phases of the moon on our calendar before drawing a moon in the sky!

Saturday, November 9, 2013

Lynn's Comments: This storyline was really about the hiring of a new receptionist for the clinic. Our ad in the paper resulted in over a hundred applications. Many of these were instantly set aside due to the reasons I put in this strip!