Elizabeth: Browse The Strips

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Until I became a teenager and could work at the store, do chores at home, and generally understand adult conversation, my mother and I were like oil and water. My best memories of her when I was very small seem to be when I was sick! She spent hours sitting next to me in my room, reading, taking my temperature, and trying to make me more comfortable. Measles, mumps and chicken pox went the rounds of every neighbourhood, and there was little to do but stay in bed and sweat it out. Mom should have been a doctor. She was smart, unfazed by barf, blood and trauma, and eager to try every home remedy known to man. Her poultices, enemas and steam tents were worse than the plague itself, but they worked. Thanks to Mom, we were up and feeling better before anyone else on the block!

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.

Monday, June 10, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Even on the most miserable winter days, my kids seemed immune to the cold. Mittens, boots, warm socks and headgear were fought against in their hurry to get out doors. They only came in when they were blue and shivering and had to be thawed out in a hot bath. Knowing he was freezing, I once called out to Aaron saying, "What are you waiting for, why don't you come inside?" and he replied, "My fingers still work!"

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Charles Schulz told me that this punch line was one of his favourites. "What a great line!" he said. "How do we think up these things?!!"

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Lynn's Comments: We had owned a small aircraft ever since Aaron was 4 years old, so he was no stranger to flying. With floats in the summer and skis in the winter, our Cessna 185 was like a flying carpet--which could take us anywhere we wished to go. We all loved to fly, and even the bumpiest trips were fun.

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!

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Lynn's Comments: I used this same punch line again years later, and even made it the title of a collection book. You'd think I'd remember every gag and not use it again, but sometimes I slipped up!

Saturday, July 13, 2013

Lynn's Comments: It was so hard to let Aaron get onto that plane alone. We worried about him all day. He had to change planes three times, and even though he was being monitored by friends and friendly airline staff, we couldn't sit still until he had safely arrived.

Friday, July 26, 2013

Lynn's Comments: When I saw this in the paper, I almost wept. I had done the strip as a "bit of truth," but had no idea how serious the situation was and I berated myself for my poor mothering skills.

Friday, August 2, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Even though she was the centre of attention when he was gone and even though they fought often, Katie really missed her older brother. She'd lie awake and talk about him. One night, she even asked if she could sleep in his bed.

Sunday, August 4, 2013

Lynn's Comments: My father loved to dance. He would pick me up and dance with me until I fell asleep in his arms. He could sing so well and knew the words to so many songs that he never seemed to run out of waltzes or shanties or tunes from the bar. I remember the swoop of his body as he waltzed to the "Blue Danube" with theatrical panache. He could two-step and tango and polka and jive, and I melted into his shoulder with the rhythm and the warmth of his style.

Last November, my daughter, Katie, and her husband, Lane, presented me with my first grandchild. Laura is now almost two years old, and she loves to dance with me. I hold her the way my father held me. I sing the same songs, and I move with the same style. I thank him again and again for this memory and a gift that I'm now passing on.

Friday, August 16, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Aaron did bring a gift for each one of us--fortunately, there were no crabs. This idea came from one of my own attempts to keep wildlife. Trips to the beach on the west coast often included digging in the tide pools, where we'd find all kinds of neat sea creatures. One day I brought home a pail full of crabs, which I left in the trunk of the car. I didn't remember them until my mom said there was a horrible smell coming from the trunk. That smell stayed for weeks ... and so did Mom's anger!

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Now that I am dogless, I find dog breath hard to take. When I had Farley, his breath came with warm licks, and his enquiring sniffs were more than welcome. Even so, there were times when I couldn't stomach the smell. Once, when Farley ate my chives, I was overwhelmed by his breath, but there was one time that was much worse; I was standing at my kitchen window watching him happily lying on the warm driveway, chewing something he'd found with obvious relish. He chewed with that look of ecstasy, the look children have when they're eating ice cream, that blissful satisfaction that comes with flavour and fun and mouth-watering fulfillment. He'd toss his head back, reposition his prize, and chew again. He was happy. Eventually, my curiosity got to me and I went out to see what succulent something he was chewing on. I couldn't believe my eyes. The object he was blissfully savouring was a flat, well-rotted, dried-out toad. To Farley, it was dog jerky. To me, it was horrible. I would have shown the true source of Farley's halitosis, but really, it was too gross for publication! [Eventually this gag did make an appearance, with Edgar doing the dirty deed.]