Elizabeth: Browse The Strips

Friday, December 6, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Katie was much too big, but she insisted on riding in the shopping cart baby seat. I told her repeatedly that it wasn't a good idea, but I gave in. As soon as she was settled, she was stuck. I told her to be patient, that we'd get her out when I paid for the groceries. She wailed. The man at the meat counter came out from behind the showcase and lifted Kate's upper half while I pushed her feet. We extracted her without injury. I said nothing. I didn't have to!

Saturday, December 7, 2013

Lynn's Comments: This story came about when I picked up a huge turkey by the metal tag and lifted it into my cart. It occurred to me that I had done something really stupid. The turkey weighed at least eighteen pounds, and if I'd dropped it, I could have broken a foot!

Saturday, December 14, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Sure enough, a man from Ohio sent a letter telling me that he had indeed broken his foot by lifting a heavy frozen turkey by the tag, breaking the wire tie. The worst part of his injury, he confessed, was that nobody felt sorry for him. He said that as soon as they heard how it happened, they laughed. "If I had been skiing or hiking and had broken my foot, I'd have had some sympathy!" I sent him a strip. He wrote back to say it made him feel better!

Friday, December 20, 2013

Lynn's Comments: I not only cry during children's stage plays, I cry at parades! All those lives, all that talent and potential makes me very emotional.

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Lynn's Comments: We always had bubble lights on our tree when Alan and I were young. They were our favourite ornaments. We loved to play with them and take them apart. One Christmas, Alan was very sick. He had a high fever, and just to prove it, he put the glass tube from a bubble light in his mouth--and it bubbled! What a nifty thermometer! We thought Mom would be angry, but she wasn't. When you're feeling miserable on Christmas morning, anything that makes you smile is just fine.

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Lynn's Comments: This is the prayer my grandfather always said before a big meal. "For what we are about to receive, may the lord make us truly thankful." We thought it was a great prayer. It was sincere. It was genuinely heartfelt, and it said what needed to be said--before the gravy got cold!

Friday, December 27, 2013

Lynn's Comments: When I was in grade one, I had a friend called Carol Mayes who had survived polio and walked with crutches. (The character Gordon Mayes was named for Carol.) I often went to the washroom with her because she needed help. I also carried her books and her lunch box when she walked home. I was fascinated by her, and when kids began to tease me saying I only liked Carol because I wanted to play with her crutches, I was confused. Did I really like her because of that? It's true, I did like to swing on her crutches and I did find her fascinating because of the scars she had from multiple surgeries. I just thought she was neat.

She had been held back several grades because of her illness, and she struggled with spelling and reading. I was a good reader, and our teacher asked me to help her, which I did. The kids who accused me of liking Carol because she had crutches were also jealous of the way I had been singled out to read with her at the back of the room. They eventually had an effect on me. As a small child, I had no way of explaining my friendship. I wanted to be accepted, and I wanted to be liked. I slowly separated myself from Carol, and was relieved when she was sent to another school. Carol was gone. The crutches were gone. I was the same as all the other kids and glad to be so.

I often think of Carol. Her strength of character, the way she thrust herself forward, dragging her feet, the way she smiled through the pain and the curious stares. I recall as if it was yesterday. Now I can say why I liked Carol. Of all the kids in my class, she impressed me as having the most to give--the one who outshone us all.

Monday, December 30, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Our log house had an opening next to the top stair, just before you stepped up to the second floor. It was a perfect spy-hole from which the kids could watch what was going on downstairs in the living room. We knew it was there, but we'd forget. Many an evening's get-together was monitored by two silent, pyjama-clad spies, who went undiscovered ... unless they snickered or fell asleep at their post!

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Lynn's Comments: These strips are from a scene in my childhood. The morning after a New Year's Eve party, our house had been left as it was. Bottles of half-finished beer, glasses with the dregs, drying canapes, and stale chips covered the tabletops. Remnants of cigarettes and cigars filled the ashtrays. Alan and I were the first on the scene, and the place was ours!

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Lynn's Comments: I made good use of my own childhood experiences, and one of the things that plagued families of the 1950s was the need for parents to be right. It was, "Do as I say, not as I do," which never made a heck of a lot of sense to me. If Dad swore, swearing was cool. If Mom smoked, smoking was cool too. If what they told us didn't add up, we were quick to object, but the folks were always right--no matter how wrong they were. This was a hard facade to maintain. When I had kids of my own, I discovered that it was much easier to admit to a mistake than try and justify it.

Monday, January 6, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Our folks didn't suddenly wake up and discover our deeds that New Year's morning. Dad went to use the bathroom and found Alan doubled over the biff (from smoking the cigar), and me in the tub smiling stupidly. As I recall, neither of our folks was angry with us for trying out contraband; they were mad at themselves for leaving it there. We all considered it a lesson learned.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Lynn's Comments: My mom worked with her father doing the hand lettering in and around the stamps in his priceless albums. He was an expert on forgeries, and this fine work required them both to use of a variety of magnifying glasses. We kids were not allowed to touch them, but this made them all the more fascinating.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Living in a cold climate means having the kids indoors. I swore that television would not be my babysitter, that my offspring would have wholesome, educational, and creative pastimes. I encouraged them to read, draw, build things out of wood, clay, and paper. I bought board games--we played Scrabble, Monopoly, and Crazy Eights. I let them take apart the vacuum cleaner and roll marbles down the hose. I did everything I could think of to keep them entertained, and they, in turn, participated--as long as I played with them. The plan disintegrated if I decided to leave them and do something else, which is when they begged for television. So, I caved. I gave in. I set them up with food and water and turned on cartoons. I was able to work, clean, do laundry, and get stuff done, while my children bathed in the glow of the tube. I felt guilty, but at the same time --anything that saves a mom's sanity deserves a place in the home.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Lynn's Comments: I took my kids to fast food joints. I knew the value of cheap, fast, and fried, and it had everything to do with convenience. Tiled floors and washable seating, disposable plates, cups, and cutlery offered respite from kitchen duties and the possibility of communicating with another adult (with kids the same age). It also meant my offspring would eat everything on their plates. It might not be with sustenance, but their stomachs would be full. I ushered my charges, unapologetically, into plastic indoor playgrounds. I ordered the specials, the biggies, and meals--which came with toys. I too ate with gusto, knowing that what I was doing was addictive, that I was introducing my children to substances I wanted them to avoid. Still, the positive outweighed the negative: an hour of freedom vs. a hassle at home. I plead guilty to falling for an easy solution to lunch.

I can't remember the last time I went to a fast food joint, but I know the time will come when I will fall off the wagon again. I look forward to sitting at one of those colourful plastic tables with burgers, onion rings, and a rot-gut pop while my granddaughter romps in the plastic kid-proof play area, her stomach full of fries. I'll count the useless calories in the grub that I'm eating and try not to feel guilty for enjoying every bite!

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Katie loved to play on the lazy Susan where I kept all my canned goods. As long as I could hear the rumble of the sturdily built shelves turning, I knew she was safe and not getting into trouble--so I thought. As she rode around one day, she amused herself by removing all the labels from the cans. We had mystery meals for months afterwards!

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Lynn's Comments: We got Farley as a puppy in the fall. The first snow was so much fun. Like any baby, he was thrilled to play in it and would bounce into a snowdrift--right up to his ears. The ravine behind our house was quite steep, and in winter, we had no choice but to slide down if we wanted to walk along the creek at the bottom. Farley watched my husband and me slide down the hill on our toboggan, and with a little coaxing, he stepped forward, sat down, and slid all the way down, too. It was so funny, we laughed till we cried. All that winter, he would slide down the hill. We photographed him and made our friends watch. Summer came, and the following winter, we thought Farley would carry on sliding. He didn't. He had no interest at all in getting his seat wet and clogged with snow. I can't say that I blame him. We, at least, had protection! I guess it goes to show you that even dogs grow up and become sensible.

Monday, February 3, 2014

Lynn's Comments: As a new mother, with no one close by to advise me, there were times that I truly believed my son was"out to get me!" When you do everything possible to stop a baby from crying and they still go on and on and on, it's easy for a novice to think a baby does things like this on purpose. I came very close to shaking him one night and called my social worker the next day for help. I can see why some parents just can't cope--especially if they're on their own.

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Lynn's Comments: When I got together with other young moms, we talked a lot about coping. We reasoned that the nine month gestation plus the difficulty in delivering a baby made the kid that much more "valuable," and therefore worth the added suffering afterwards. Frustrations were all forgotten, of course, when we looked at the faces of our clean, healthy, and sleeping offspring.

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Once my kids were toilet trained and could eat with cutlery, it was amazing how quickly I forgot everything I had learned about newborns and toddlers!