Lynn's Comments: The towels in our family bathroom were often filthy. Alan and I would "wash" our hands but were always in too much of a hurry to use soap!
Elizabeth: Browse The Strips
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Lynn's Comments: The quote "home bought" came from my childhood. My mom was always making bread and cookies, so for us, the ones that came in a package were a treat. My faves were "Dad's" Oatmeal cookies and "Wonder Bread." Every so often, instead of having homemade cookies, I begged for "home bought!"
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Friday, April 25, 2014
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Lynn's Comments: I got my first real burn from my curling iron. I was in a hurry; it flew out of my hand, and stupidly, I tried to catch it. I had to wear a bandage on my hand for two weeks. The pain and the inconvenience made me aware of how dangerous these things can be, so when my kids were around, I was extra careful with it. I made sure they knew it could be dangerous, that it was not a toy and should never be played with. I was certain that my lecture was well heeded until the day I noticed my curling iron had been put away "differently." When I examined it, I saw nylon and some other substance melted to the barrel. I never found out what my kids had been doing with it or what they had destroyed, which reminds me: Now that they are adults, they tell me stories of "what really happened" when I wasn't looking--I'll have to ask about the curling iron!!
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Lynn's Comments: Aside from getting out the message that chaos always happened when I needed to think, I did owe a letter to my aunt Bessie. This was a way to tell her I was thinking about her and get some work out at the same time. Unfortunately, Bessie never read the paper the day this was released, but I did write the letter I owed her!
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Lynn's Comments: This cartoon was done specifically as a message to my son. Word for word, grimace for groan, I expressed my outrage in the most visible and lasting way possible. When the strip appeared in the Toronto Star, I showed it to him hoping that he would be shocked into changing his evil ways. I said that millions of people had read it and now knew about the way he treated his laundry--and ME! Aaron read the dialogue thoroughly and said, "I get the gag, Ma, but what's your point?"
Saturday, May 24, 2014
Lynn's Comments: My mother didn't like me drinking out of the water faucet in the bathroom sink. She told me that there were snakes in the water pipes and they laid eggs in the water, so I had to look at the water in the glass to make sure there were no eggs in it. If I drank directly out of the faucet and swallowed the eggs, well--snakes would grow in my stomach and come wriggling out of my nose! It worked. I stopped drinking out of the faucet and looked for eggs in every glass of water I poured. I still think of this when I get a glass of water. The "power of suggestion" is power, indeed!
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Lynn's Comments: Begonias do very well here, and the blossoms can grow to an amazing size. Aaron and Katie liked to break them off and bring them in, along with the ants that infested them!
Sunday, June 1, 2014
Lynn's Comments: My mother had a day of the week for laundry. Rain or shine, she washed on Wednesday, and there was an order to the way she hung the clothes on the line. Sheets, towels, and good clothing was hung first--so it could be seen and appreciated by the neighbours. Underwear and things not meant for public scrutiny were hung closer to the house. These things were easily reached by standing on the rungs of our porch railing, and often fell prey to my brother--whose pranks with Mom's unmentionables were legendary.
After our neighbour's big dog, Teddy, died, their daughter, Tootie (our babysitter), bought a small fuzzy pup, which she called "Noby"--short for "Nobody." Noby was a sweet, easygoing little pooch who put up with just about anything the local kids would do to her. One day, Alan decided to dress her up in Mom's underwear. Noby dutifully stood still while bra and panties were administered. Al expected a wild struggle for freedom, but Noby stood still. Frustrated by the lack of action, Al lifted Noby up and placed her inside a sheet, which had been doubled so it could hang on the lower line. Noby went crazy. She squirmed and howled, and we worried that she'd tear the sheet open. Tootie soon came to her rescue. She pulled Noby out of the sheet, cuffed my brother on the side of his head, threw the bra and panties on the lawn, and went home.
I picked up the underwear and put it back on the line. The sheet was left to dry. Later, when Mom pulled in the laundry, I watched as she folded it. When she got to the underwear, she frowned, wondered why it looked unwashed, but kept on folding. Then she reached for the sheet. There in the middle was a mess of dirt and dog hair. Mom looked at me and said, "Where's your brother?" Alan, of course, was gone. I was close at hand and received the brunt of her wrath. After a thorough tongue-lashing, I was sent to my room--Al had to wait. Nothing was said when he came home, and I was furious. I thought I had taken the blame for everything! Later that evening it was clear that justice prevailed. When Al pulled the blankets back on his bed, there was the dirty sheet. Grossed out and grumbling, he slept on it for a week!
After our neighbour's big dog, Teddy, died, their daughter, Tootie (our babysitter), bought a small fuzzy pup, which she called "Noby"--short for "Nobody." Noby was a sweet, easygoing little pooch who put up with just about anything the local kids would do to her. One day, Alan decided to dress her up in Mom's underwear. Noby dutifully stood still while bra and panties were administered. Al expected a wild struggle for freedom, but Noby stood still. Frustrated by the lack of action, Al lifted Noby up and placed her inside a sheet, which had been doubled so it could hang on the lower line. Noby went crazy. She squirmed and howled, and we worried that she'd tear the sheet open. Tootie soon came to her rescue. She pulled Noby out of the sheet, cuffed my brother on the side of his head, threw the bra and panties on the lawn, and went home.
I picked up the underwear and put it back on the line. The sheet was left to dry. Later, when Mom pulled in the laundry, I watched as she folded it. When she got to the underwear, she frowned, wondered why it looked unwashed, but kept on folding. Then she reached for the sheet. There in the middle was a mess of dirt and dog hair. Mom looked at me and said, "Where's your brother?" Alan, of course, was gone. I was close at hand and received the brunt of her wrath. After a thorough tongue-lashing, I was sent to my room--Al had to wait. Nothing was said when he came home, and I was furious. I thought I had taken the blame for everything! Later that evening it was clear that justice prevailed. When Al pulled the blankets back on his bed, there was the dirty sheet. Grossed out and grumbling, he slept on it for a week!
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Lynn's Comments: I was on the periphery of hippiedom during the '60s. Never too far out or too far in, just one of the middle masses who liked the concept of "make love, not war"--but I also wanted to make a living. I had the long hair, the tattered sweaters, the jeans, and the vocabulary, and with this, I fit in. I often hung out with people who did drugs. I talked like they did so they'd think I'd "et" (the in-word for having taken drugs), and accept me as just another "head." I liked being an outcast without the risks! Art school connected me with some very smart, creative, and outrageous people--most of whom remained under cover; people didn't identify themselves the way they do now. The youth of today are more openly different. They advertise their eccentricities. They know how to be cool!
If I were 16 right now, I would dye my hair blue, wear mostly black, have a small tat, and turn my tunes up loud! I'd have a few piercings. I'd do subversive cartoons and improv comedy while secretly planning a career in music and medicine. I'd hang out with the Goths, go to churches, mosques, and synagogues looking for truth and enlightenment. And I'd be a vegan--just 'cause it would bug my mother. I'd backpack in Europe, play my guitar on street corners, write poetry, and ponder the meaning of life. I'd be into the Internet: animating, chatting, and exploring it all. If I were 16 right now, I'd be hanging out with the girls in this cartoon--I like to think they are simply a much younger me.
If I were 16 right now, I would dye my hair blue, wear mostly black, have a small tat, and turn my tunes up loud! I'd have a few piercings. I'd do subversive cartoons and improv comedy while secretly planning a career in music and medicine. I'd hang out with the Goths, go to churches, mosques, and synagogues looking for truth and enlightenment. And I'd be a vegan--just 'cause it would bug my mother. I'd backpack in Europe, play my guitar on street corners, write poetry, and ponder the meaning of life. I'd be into the Internet: animating, chatting, and exploring it all. If I were 16 right now, I'd be hanging out with the girls in this cartoon--I like to think they are simply a much younger me.
Monday, June 16, 2014
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Lynn's Comments: This idea came from a situation in which a friend's house was broken into, and she was upset that the police had seen her unwashed dishes and her unmade bed. I remember thinking: Like wearing good underwear in case of an emergency, you should keep your house tidy in case it's robbed!
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Lynn's Comments: My dad had the gift of the gab and he made friends everywhere. Mom was much more reserved, and never wanted to attract attention to herself. One night, guess it was about 11:00 pm, we had all gone to bed when a loud police siren was heard outside our house. Right outside. Dad got up, put on his dressing gown, and looked out the window. Two police officers were standing on our front porch--hammering on the door. "Ridgway? Ridgway! Open up!" We were all up by then, and watched as Dad tentatively opened the door. Standing there were two guys he had been chatting up that day. "You got the coffee on?" one said. "We just got off work!" Dad laughed out loud, went to the kitchen and put on the coffee. He had a great time talking to these funny, easy-going guys, and figured it was one of the best nights he'd had in ages. Mom didn't speak to him for a week.
Friday, June 20, 2014
Lynn's Comments: My philosophy was, "I don't care if you sleep or not, just go to bed and be quiet." A light on was okay, books and toys were okay. It seemed to me that an hour was all it took for the offspring to weary and crash!
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Lynn's Comments: This strip was reprinted many, many times for moms and kids wanting to give it to Dad for Father's Day--but now and then we printed it for dads who just wanted to be reminded how good those baby hugs feel.
Sunday, June 22, 2014
Lynn's Comments: I think I've told you that Ruth, my mother-in-law, was a weaver. She must have had three looms going at once and extras for friends who wanted to learn. Thrifty and thoughtful, she kept every scrap of fabric and every piece of yarn. The cut ends from her warps and weavings, called thrums (there's a name for everything!), were kept for stuffing and felting and for birds' nests--which I thought was neat. In early spring, Ruth would go for long walks in the woods and leave handfuls of thrums along the way for the birds to find.
An avid birder, she would then retrace her steps and watch for nests, which had been made with her threads. Determined to see me do the same, she gave me a basket of thrums to distribute. We were well into nesting season, and when I still hadn't thrown the thrums, she began to grumble. Annoyed and lazy, I tossed the threads onto our lawn and forgot about them until the lawn needed mowing. I started the mower and was happily going along when suddenly the thing seized with a loud, metallic THWANGGGGG. Smoke came out from under the cowling with a burning rubber smell. I unplugged the mower and turned it over. Strangling the blade was a broad band of colourful, smouldering thrums.
An avid birder, she would then retrace her steps and watch for nests, which had been made with her threads. Determined to see me do the same, she gave me a basket of thrums to distribute. We were well into nesting season, and when I still hadn't thrown the thrums, she began to grumble. Annoyed and lazy, I tossed the threads onto our lawn and forgot about them until the lawn needed mowing. I started the mower and was happily going along when suddenly the thing seized with a loud, metallic THWANGGGGG. Smoke came out from under the cowling with a burning rubber smell. I unplugged the mower and turned it over. Strangling the blade was a broad band of colourful, smouldering thrums.
Monday, June 23, 2014
Lynn's Comments: My friend, Carol, and I set up a lemonade stand in front of my house, and of course, my mom did all the work. We thought it would take all day to sell our wares, but were surprised to have many customers--one right after the other. It took awhile, years actually, before my dad admitted to calling everyone on the block--asking them to buy.
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Friday, June 27, 2014
Monday, June 30, 2014
Lynn's Comments: "Train of blank" was not mine. Somebody said it somewhere years ago and it stuck in my head. What a great line!--Isn't it strange that you can remember some insignificant little line like this, but forget your licence plate, your passwords and your PIN?
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Lynn's Comments: After I sent this strip to the syndicate, I felt badly for having used Cathy Guisewite's exclamation. I think this is the only time I ever used the word "Gakkk!" Years later, after many crazy thought-up sounds: bork, flubble, snooof, snerkk, and so on, I received a letter from someone saying I had stolen Don Martin's words. Don did a fabulous spread for Mad Magazine, and his use of funny sound effects was legendary. I wrote back to say that I knew Don's work, and although my sound effects might be similar, I tried hard not to copy anything of Don's. I mean, how many ways can you depict a scream? In deference to Cathy, I have always spelled "AAAAAUGH!" that way--so that she could have "AAAAKKKK!" all to herself.
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Friday, July 4, 2014
Lynn's Comments: One of the most effective advertising gimmicks ever was the "jingle." My chums and I memorized all of them, and today, I can still sing the bluesy torch song that extolled the goodness of Du Maurier cigarettes. I'm trying to think of a modern equivalent--anyone heard a really good jingle lately?
Saturday, July 5, 2014
Lynn's Comments: This scenario was actually from a childhood memory. My brother and I did make a television out of a cardboard box, and we did try to put on a show for our friends. What happened was, our dad, who was a born entertainer, took over the box and put on the show for us. He should have been in vaudeville--but, was born a few years too late.
Sunday, July 6, 2014
Lynn's Comments: Every year, my folks took us to the "PNE" --The Pacific National Exhibition. This event was huge by the standards of the day. It included, along with the midway, exhibits of farm animals, a flower show, cooking demonstrations, and buskers of all kinds. You could spend a day there and pay nothing for food. Free samples of baking and meats and candy were enough to sustain our family of four!
The day dad took us on the biggest Ferris wheel we'd ever seen, my brother, Alan, and I were stuffed with snacks, corn on the cob, and our favourite: cotton candy (which we called "candy floss"). I was the one with the cast iron stomach, but this day was different. By the time we had ascended to the top of the ride, I was feeling woozy. At the first descent, I was a bilious green. As the chair ascended, my pyloric valve gave way, and I jettisoned a load of carnival chow over the handrail onto the heads of the couple below. It was good to have missed my dad, but the thought of dealing with the victims in the chair ahead, unnerved him greatly. The ride didn't stop for accidents like this, so we endured the cycle--expecting to be taken aside by the people I'd barfed on. They would be getting off first.
As the ride came to a halt, Dad, the least confrontational man on the planet, prepared for the worst. Fortunately, the couple fled to the nearest bathroom without looking back. Relieved, Dad sighed and said, "You're lucky, Lindy. Those folks were understanding. My guess is--they definitely have kids."
The day dad took us on the biggest Ferris wheel we'd ever seen, my brother, Alan, and I were stuffed with snacks, corn on the cob, and our favourite: cotton candy (which we called "candy floss"). I was the one with the cast iron stomach, but this day was different. By the time we had ascended to the top of the ride, I was feeling woozy. At the first descent, I was a bilious green. As the chair ascended, my pyloric valve gave way, and I jettisoned a load of carnival chow over the handrail onto the heads of the couple below. It was good to have missed my dad, but the thought of dealing with the victims in the chair ahead, unnerved him greatly. The ride didn't stop for accidents like this, so we endured the cycle--expecting to be taken aside by the people I'd barfed on. They would be getting off first.
As the ride came to a halt, Dad, the least confrontational man on the planet, prepared for the worst. Fortunately, the couple fled to the nearest bathroom without looking back. Relieved, Dad sighed and said, "You're lucky, Lindy. Those folks were understanding. My guess is--they definitely have kids."
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Thursday, July 10, 2014
Friday, July 11, 2014
Lynn's Comments: Badminton was one of the games our family really enjoyed. The net would go up in the back yard as soon as spring arrived, and by the end of summer, the grass around it was worn to the ground. Our house was built on a hill, so the front looked like a bungalow, but the back was a two-storey affair, and the roof towered high above the makeshift court. Even so, we managed to whack birdies onto the roof, and Dad, ever mindful of the cost of new ones, risked his life annually to get them down.