Elizabeth: Browse The Strips

Friday, June 12, 2015

Lynn's Comments: My first husband was a radio announcer when I met him, and my second worked as a disc jockey for a while, as well, so I was pretty familiar with the workings of a radio station. Even so, I was tense and far too giddy when it was my turn at the microphone, and I did some awful interviews!

Monday, June 15, 2015

Lynn's Comments: I sent in this strip knowing it wasn't one of my best. Again, the pressure of a relentless deadline will often result in an "OK, it's done, I'm sending it!" situation. For someone trying to analyze this for its humour (and there are people who do this kind of thing), what I was trying to do was to contrast Lizzie's English language gaffes with something which has meaning. HUH? Anyway, it didn't work. This is where a storyline (rather than gag-a-day) helps because the audience, by following a series, might overlook one lousy strip! Did I make that clear? No? Uhhhh--OK--NEXT!!!

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

Lynn's Comments: "I'm gradulating" is exactly what my daughter, Katie said. The simplest things can be turned into a smile.

Thursday, June 18, 2015

Lynn's Comments: Kate's kindergarten teacher was Miss Dorothy Lyon. Here was an opportunity to give a nod to a favourite person.

Friday, June 19, 2015

Lynn's Comments: These days are gone. Few parents will send their youngsters out to play now with a lunch bag and instructions to be home by six. But, this is how it was when I was a kid growing up in North Vancouver. We all played up and down the street until dark; until our mothers were hoarse from shouting.

I got some criticism for doing this strip, but at the time, my kids were quite free to roam too. We lived in a tiny rural town, and I could watch the lane from my kitchen and most of the neighbours' houses from my front window. I always knew where they were, and if I didn't, someone else was on the job. We moms were careful and the kids, we thought, were safe. Even so, I'm reminded of a story: Katie, who was perhaps 4 years old, had been playing in the lane with some friends. I lost sight of her and decided to go and see where she was. I found her in the hall of a neighbour's house. One of the boys, a 6 year old, was holding a rifle saying, "I know where the bullets are! I know where the bullets are!" His parents were at the bar and had left their oldest child in charge--she was 8. I asked the boy to give me the gun. I placed it back on the rack in the hallway. I took Katie home and told her she could play with those kids any time, but it had to be at our house.

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Lynn's Comments: My brother and my husband never did go on a canoe trip together, but this series of strips was based on a true and nearly fatal story.

Sunday, July 5, 2015

Lynn's Comments: One year my dad insisted we all go on a camping trip into the BC interior. He was an amateur rockhound who loved to gold pan, and his plan was to follow the route of the gold rush to Barkerville and back.

Before we left, both he and my mom made sure we kids had everything we needed. They packed, repacked, checked, and double-checked our suitcases, and told us that if we forgot anything, we'd be out in the bush where there were no stores, we would have to live without it. Off we went in our old 1959 Chev, with a pile of supplies and suitcases lashed to the top of the car.

After a long day of driving, we finally came to our first stop; a swampy, mosquito-infested campground just north of the town of Hope. The sun had dropped below the mountains. Mom reminded Alan and I that there was nothing around us for miles, and to make sure we had everything we needed for a night in the woods--just as Dad discovered he'd forgotten the tent poles.

Friday, July 10, 2015

Lynn's Comments: I have friends who are serious canoeists and they are in seriously good shape. After a couple of hours paddling last summer, I had to go to a physiotherapist for six months. No joke!

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Lynn's Comments: My three-year-old granddaughter asks these kinds of questions every day. She also makes these kinds of observations. When you write a comic strip, you have to think like a kid. I think like a kid, and I don't ever want to grow up!

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Lynn's Comments: This story was based on a true story, which might have ended in tragedy.

My husband, who had been flying a float plane just long enough to feel confident, offered to pick up some friends after a canoe trip down the Kazan River in the Northwest Territories.

Sunday, July 19, 2015

Lynn's Comments: My three-year-old granddaughter and her friends have learned the word "consequences." When you do something bad--there are consequences. Recently, after a nice evening of playtime and stories, Laura decided she wasn't going to go to sleep. She whined and cried and tried to wake her baby brother, with whom she shares a room. Her mother, Katie, said she would have to give up her favourite sleep toys if she didn't end the strike. Laura whined and lost her teddy. She then lost her blankie, her pillow, her quilt and her sheets. The whining continued until she was lying on a stripped bed with nothing but her "pull-ups" to keep her warm. At this point she capitulated, stopped her bad behaviour, and decided to sleep.

Katie was pleased to have had the standoff resolved--thanks to "consequences."

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Lynn's Comments: I thought about my children. I thought about the three other families who were now gathered together to wait for news--anything that would tell them what had happened, and what was going on. I called them every two hours. I called them just to let them know that everything possible was being done. I felt guilty for being so close to the scene and the first to know. It was all so surreal.

Sunday, August 9, 2015

Lynn's Comments: Our kids fought over the family hammock, and we knew it would be a bone of contention until: 1) they grew up, or 2) one of the trees fell down. In a storm one night, the problem was solved; the bigger of the two trees was uprooted and had to be removed. The irony was that both kids were grown and gone by then.

Friday, August 21, 2015

Lynn's Comments: As a family, we didn't attend church too often, but our faith played an enormous role during the search and rescue--and afterward. How comforting it was to have something; someone out there, more powerful than one can imagine to turn to, to talk to, to trust.

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Lynn's Comments: This strip inspired a number of readers to write in. Some were pleased to see the subject of birth anomalies discussed in the comics, and others were outraged by the suggestion that angels might work on assembly lines. It's hard to explain to those who take story-telling so literally that I was not trying to subvert their beliefs. Kids say things like this. The fact that they have faith in something greater and more wonderful than themselves, is part of the magic of childhood! Ah, but now I'm offending those who will object to seeing the words faith and magic in the same sentence. You can't please 'em all.

Monday, August 31, 2015

Lynn's Comments: I was much more emotional, much more excited than my children were on their first day of school. Maybe it's because I remembered so well my own first day--my own foray into the mayhem of new bodies, new bullies, new friends. Maybe I was remembering the size of the classroom where I sat and what I saw. Maybe I could hear the sounds, feel the noise, and taste the scent of new paper and pencils and paint. Maybe I was reliving their excitement at being a "big kid" for the first time. On the other hand, maybe I was just really glad to have the rest of the day to myself.

Thursday, September 3, 2015

Lynn's Comments: This was from memory. On my first day of school I seemed to make one gaffe after another. It didn't take long before I hid my embarrassment by being a clown.

Friday, September 4, 2015

Lynn's Comments: As soon as I could talk and interact with other kids, I knew there was a hierarchy, a pecking order into which I had to fit. In the classroom and out in the playground, I knew where I was welcome and where I wasn't. So many different elements came into play: temperament, ability, looks, interests, even cleanliness were things we considered before friendship could begin.

Thursday, September 10, 2015

Lynn's Comments: In grade one, it's cool to be at the front of the line. This coveted spot was fought over. Kids nudged and jostled each other until one held the spot--undisputed. I wanted to be first in line so badly I couldn't stand it. One day, I made it to about sixth, and just as we all stopped shoving, the first kid in line brought up his lunch. The next kid turned green and went to the back of the line and so did the next. This went on until I was first in line. I couldn't believe my luck! I didn't care about the barf, in fact, I leaned over and shouted to everyone, "Guess what! It was macaroni and cheese!" At this, two other kids threw up. "Weaklings," I said to myself as the doors opened. The line began to flow around the offensive patch and into the building with me in the lead. From then on, I claimed first place whenever I wanted it. I'd earned the right.