Elly: Browse The Strips

Friday, December 17, 2010

Lynn's Comments: "Kafloompa- gush, kafloompa-gush" is my all time favorite sound effect. Coming up with words that suggest things like the screaming of brakes or the rumbling of thunder has been a sort of "art form" with cartoonists often claiming ownership. I was once accused of swiping Don Martin's (Mad Magazine) sound effects. I think the noises I came up with were "ka-thwanggg" or "ga-fwappp" or something like that. Perhaps these words were similar to Don's - but I hadn't stolen them! In the English language, there are only so many ways to spell the sound of a cream pie hitting the side of a head or a mouthful of cold peas being spat onto a plate. Years ago, I saw an article about Rice Crispies and how "snap, crackle and pop" was written in other languages. Some of the examples were: "knisper, knasper, knusper", "rix, rax, rox," and "piff, paff, poff" none of which I thought were as descriptive as the English. So, cartoonists will continue to come up with written sound effects as long as there are images that require them and if anyone should choose to incorporate "kafloompa-gush" into their art, I will consider it, with humility and gratitude, to be a genuine compliment.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Lynn's Comments: Katie, more than Aaron, was fascinated by the toilet. The fact that things simply disappeared was magic. After overcoming her need to keep everything that was HERS, and agreeing to let creations of a personal nature travel on to the pipes below, she wanted to flush anything that would fit into the porcelain receptacle. Socks, toys, and toothbrushes found themselves trapped in the bowels of our bathroom, awaiting a rescue and a wash. I was partly to blame. When a small boat couldn't be retrieved and tears ensued, I told her that it had gone out to sea and was happily floating off to explore the world beyond. With this in mind, it occurred to her that other things might want to escape the confines of home as well. The sound of flushing was suddenly a reason to drop whatever was at hand and run to the nearest bathroom. The day we bought our own "worm" was the day we gave up, braced ourselves for more flushings (despite warnings, admonishments and time outs) and looked forward to the day when other things would capture her interest. Unfortunately, neither of our kids was ever fascinated by laundry.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Lynn's Comments: My dad made up words to stories and songs all the time: "When shepherds washed their socks by night", "We three Kings of orient are trying to smoke a rubber cigar" and "round John virgin" were all part of our holiday hymns. Naturally, when I read to my brother, it behooved me (a good word at reindeer time) to change the words. Part of the game was in our having memorized the book or song sheet, so a funny alteration was a challenge and something of an expectation. Every so often I will see a youngster reading from memory, hardly looking at the words and these scenes come back to me. Thank goodness for memories.... and Christmas memories are some of the best!

Monday, December 20, 2010

Lynn's Comments: Yes, grandparents are a wonderful invention. I was lucky to have had the best parents-in-law one could ask for. Ruth and Tom Johnston were the models for the grandparents you see here. I used their photographs to get a likeness and their personalities were incorporated as well. I was so glad my kids had a rich and healthy connection to at least one set of grandparents. My folks lived on the other side of the country and were not able to see the children too often.

My own grandparents were either distant in miles or distant in sentiment. The only recollection I have of my paternal grandfather was “putting him out” when he fell asleep sitting up on the couch in our living room. He would smoke home rolled cigs, and the paper would be stuck to his bottom lip while the lit end smoldered and dropped hot ashes on his shirt. I remember slight plumes of smoke rising from his chest and Grandma whacking him with a dishcloth to put out the fire! My dad’s mom was a round lady with a strong domestic streak who was at home in the kitchen – but I do remember seeing photos of her in buckskins, in the snow, holding a rifle! That’s another story.

My mom’s folks were British and rather “upper crust”. Although they appreciated us, my brother and my cousins and I all had to be seen and not heard. In the strip, I had both sets of grandparents play a meaningful role – even though they lived in Winnipeg and Vancouver. In my imagination, it could all be just the way I wanted it to be!

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Lynn's Comments: Kevin, who does my colouring (and other graphic necessities), asked me to put an extra strip into this week of dailies in order to make the dates coordinate with the 2010 calendar. This was fun to add, and brought back memories of cleaning out the fireplace for Santa's nocturnal arrival. We had a large fireplace in the Lynn Lake house and sweeping it out was as much of a ritual as cutting the tree. First the charred wood was disposed of, then the grate was cleaned and the alcove swept and vacuumed out so Santa wouldn't get any soot on the rug. In front of the fireplace we would then set out Katie's little blue table and chairs on which was ceremoniously placed a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. The stockings were hung from nails under the mantelpiece and were always big, woolly ones made for northern winters. Aaron, being older, already knew about Santa but it was a long time before the mystery was explained to Katie. I think the best Christmases are the ones we share near a fireplace with people who believe in magic!

Friday, December 24, 2010

Lynn's Comments: It was all I could do to stay in bed on Christmas morning. By 5 am, I'd be up and peeking around the hall corner at the gifts under tree. If my brother was awake, we'd stand there hand in hand in the living room, shivering more from excitement than the cold. We were allowed to open our stockings and nothing else. The waiting was awful and wonderful at the same time. I wondered how my folks could stay in bed on such an important morning. Christmas had taken such a long time to come, and now we were made to wait even longer. I made the same arrangement with Kate and Aaron. Stockings only until we were up and the coffee was made. I remember them pushing our bedroom door open to see if we were stirring. It was all they could do to let us sleep until 7. We didn't appreciate it at the time, but I now miss those busy, crazy sleep deprived Christmas mornings!

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Lynn's Comments: In Lynn Lake, we had Christmas morning to ourselves and after lunch we'd walk over to Ruth and Tom's house for more openings and Christmas dinner. My in-laws always gave us practical gifts, so this strip was just for fun. Nobody gave the kids horns and drums - they were noisy enough as it was. Sitting in their living room surrounded by family and food, paper and presents is an image I'll keep with me forever. What you see in this strip is all of us the way we were at a time when life was perhaps more complicated, but far less stressful. Memories and magic is what Christmas is all about.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

Lynn's Comments: The Lynn Lake theatre was an easy walk from the house. If one of us took the kids to a movie, the other could have a few hours to catch up. One of my favorite things to do is to "organize"! I love to throw things out and often regret having done so. The alternative, though, is to have too much stuff! What a luxurious problem to have. One day while the kids were out, I did go through their things. I gave much of what I thought was forgotten and ready to recycle to the church for the annual bake and rummage sale. This event was always well attended. I took Katie and Aaron with me to enjoy the tea and the treasure hunt, forgetting there would be a number of their things in the sale. They immediately identified their own toys and I dutifully bought back the things they weren't ready to part with! I learned to ask first, and to let them choose what to give away and what to save!

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Lynn's Comments: Telling Aaron we were going on a trip without him wasn't easy. He wanted to go everywhere, see everything - he didn't want to be left out. Staying at home with strict but fair grandparents didn't sound like a swell time and objections wouldn't get him anywhere. We wanted take him, but we needed time out, time off- we needed to be kid free! When the temperature slipped below -30, I had gone down to the local travel agent and had asked him to recommend a warm refuge. We checked out the brochures on Barbados. I chose a hotel because the name sounded nice and on the spot I had booked everything. Before we went anywhere, however, I had to work ahead so that the strip would run smoothly and I'd have enough lead time to get back into it again when I got home. To do this, I'd check out the return date then work weekends and evenings until I had 6 extra weeks of FBorFW done past that date. Travelling, therefore, meant long hours of writing and drawing beforehand, and barking at kids in an airport wasn't going to be part of the scene. We looked forward to the adventure and to the reward of sitting on a warm beach with a cold drink and nothing to do but enjoy. We looked forward to it, we deserved it, but we felt guilty all the same. Aaron made us feel guilty for going... which meant, of course, that things were normal.

Friday, December 31, 2010

Lynn's Comments: When they were young like this, the kids never really got into the swing of New Year's Eve. Other than being able to dig into the dregs and leftovers from the night before, it was just another day. They would look about, wondering what was new? What was different about the first of January? For the adults, on the other hand - in a town where ANY reason to party meant a full house on a moment's notice - New Year's Eve was the night of nights. You needed no preparation, really. If you had heat, a working loo and some furniture you were golden. Food happened and beer was just a short walk away from the pharmacy. We raided each other's fridges and cooked on each other's stoves. We borrowed each other's music and made our own. We all knew each other so well, there wasn't the slow process of "getting things under way". We simply carried on from one get together to the next, bringing the gossip, gaffes and groceries with us. In the small mining town of Lynn Lake, New Year's Eve meant a great time would be had by all, and the change in the date meant we had all made it through another year - together. In a small town, family means "everyone".

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Once both kids adjusted to the idea that mom and dad were really going to leave them, they settled in to Grandma's house without much fuss. Two weeks would go by fast, and maybe we'd bring a few presents when we came home! Aaron took his teddy and Katie took her bunny. Both had been lovingly made by my mom and were washed so often, they had that floppy, misshapen look of a toy well loved. Being the eldest child gave Aaron some confidence and I knew he'd accomplish something new while we were away. Ruth prided herself in setting goals for the children. "By this time, you'll be reading at this level"- or, "by this date, you'll be out of diapers". Her years as an elementary school teacher had given her endless patience - at least where the grandkids were concerned. (Her own kids told a different story!) So, while we chose the things we'd take on our holiday, Ruth found things for Katie and Aaron to do while we were away. We were so lucky. We were so privileged - and we knew it, too!

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Lynn's Comments: When I did this, Katie was well into the language learning curve and her baby talk was a lot of fun. For years, well after her move into adult vocabulary, we used her words ourselves, not wanting to lose the charm and the memory. "Blaffoon" was "bathroom", "puffermink" was "peppermint" and "bleffus" was "breakfast". These were all part of our vocabulary until she went to university! It was hard not to perpetuate the errors. Talking baby talk to our offspring was not our style, and yet we loved the sounds and the new words they invented as they learned how to communicate. It was interesting to see how a newfound ability with language made for nonstop talking. You can't wait for them to be able to tell you what they're thinking ... and, later - you're wishing they'd be QUIET!!! The dialogue in this strip went exactly as written, except that I kept the punch line to myself!

Monday, January 3, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Our first real vacation was to Barbados. In order to get there, we had to take the Twin Otter to Thompson Manitoba, the jet from there to Winnipeg and then transfer to our flight south. For this reason alone, we were glad to be sans enfants. It would be a long trip and we were used to having our own plane and our own schedule. I did feel guilty for leaving. Aaron especially was aware that we were going away. Katie was just confused. My parents-in-law looked forward to having the kids to themselves. Ruth always had a plan and this was her opportunity to work on reading habits, table manners and bathroom toilette. Rather than begrudge the interference, I adored her for her patience and practicality. If it was up to me, I'd have left a lot of this stuff 'til they were tweens!

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Lynn's Comments: The Lynn Lake airport was a small building with no separation between the ticket counter and the door to the tarmac. There was a small office and a washroom, but nothing to separate the departing from the departed from! The kids always wanted to watch the plane take off. If it was cold enough (and it usually was!) the snow would be a fine, light powder and when the props got up to speed, they blew a swirling cloud of snow up and around the loading area, which was exciting to see. I remember the kids' faces pressed against the window as we prepared for takeoff and I wanted to hug them one more time! I knew, however that they would soon be at Ruth and Tom's house, warm and safe, ready to chow down on homemade buns and hot oatmeal porridge.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Lynn's Comments: We were both exhausted. The thought of warm weather and a sandy beach was too far away to focus on. First we had to get there. Having no one to leave our outer clothing with, we took with us our parkas, gloves, scarves and big winter boots. We could have boarded the plane in lighter fare - (there was a heater on board) but living in the north teaches you to be prepared for survival. If anything caused our plane to set down in the bush, we'd be dead without winter gear. The trip was a pleasure. We had forgotten what kid-free travelling was like. We didn't have to warm up the plane or prepare a lunch or bring toys or the potty...we just had ourselves to think about. Even though we had to slug suitcases and wait in line and sit for hours, it all seemed like such a luxury!

Friday, January 7, 2011

Lynn's Comments: We arrived in Barbados at the same time as several other aircraft. The customs and immigration area was at a standstill. Long lines of visitors stood patiently waiting, but there seemed to be no movement at all. The heat was unbearable. Some of the older people felt faint. Others fanned themselves furiously with their passports and a few were ready to mutiny on the spot. Nothing had gone wrong until now and we wondered how such a busy airport could be in such an impossible mess! When we came home I did this comic strip. A few days after it was published, I got a letter from the department of tourism in Barbados! They had seen the strip in the local paper and were embarrassed to see their airport problem broadcast to papers all over North America and beyond! I was assured that tourist entry control was being quickly reorganized and that I would never encounter this problem again! I don't know if FBorFW can take credit for the modern, efficient and air conditioned space they have now - but I'll say that it did and have fun with it!!

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Lynn's Comments: The room we had was 35A. This was one of the rare times that I really did a chronicle of our personal goings-on! The hotel was a lovely little retreat called "Tamarind Cove". The beach was secluded and the water warm. I grew up next to the ocean, but had never seen this kind of blue before. Rich, pale turquoise ribbons stretched from left to right as far as we could see. Darker blends of greenish blue reflected the clearest sky. The deck chairs beckoned and the first drinks were free. We settled easily into this glorious retreat, wishing that time would stand still.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Lynn's Comments: I have never worn a bikini. Even in my 20s I was far too self conscious. In the strip, however, I could wear what I liked. Elly's shape constantly fluctuated. Bulges grew, angles sharpened, postures slouched and straightened as the moods dictated. On the beach, it did occur to me that folks didn't much care what they wore - getting as much sun as possible was more important than esthetics. Some of our fellow guests, bleached and bulbous, lay happily out in the open, oblivious to those who smiled at the sight of them. But what difference did it make? We'd never see each other again, so why not enjoy? Maybe I should have tried on a bikini after all!

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Ever seen one of those conveyor-belt style toasters? The kind they have at breakfast buffets? You fire a slice of bread onto a moving belt, and by the time you've plopped a wad of scrambled eggs onto your plate, the bread has moved past a heating element and has reappeared as toast. This is an efficient and practical way to manage a hungry crowd of people, all bent on getting what they want, when they want it. Going to Barbados rather reminded me of the conveyor belt toaster. White folks get off the planes, head for the beach and return to the airport tanned and toasted. Not much different than a breakfast buffet. Strange, isn't it, that many of us (white folks) equate a tanned skin with health, style and attractiveness...and yet we've maligned and criticized for centuries folks who are born with a natural tan! Makes me wonder.... how can we be so stupid and so smug at the same time?!

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Lynn's Comments: We had been living in northern Manitoba, where the winter sun rises around 10 in the morning and sets around 4 in the afternoon. We were all pale faces; the only colour being the inevitable frostbite which reddened our cheeks and made our noses peel. The thought of spending a day on a sandy beach under a warm tropical sun overrode my common sense and inevitably I spent the first few days in agony. What was to have been a second honeymoon became "Don't touch me!" and this drawing was received by my spouse with little humour.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Sunburns were part of the summer experience when I was young. North Vancouver rarely became too hot for comfort so a clear, cloudless day when you could lie on a blanket on a dry back yard lawn was heaven. A tan at that time was important. People buttered themselves up; they glistened with oil and worked hard to move straps and waistbands so as to cover every exposable inch possible. We spent hours forcing colour to rise to the surface of our melanin challenged hides. On the beach at English Bay, we all listened to the same radio station and every 15 minutes, the DJ's on CFUN would tell us to roll over. You would then see everyone down the whole length of the beach, like frying sausages, roll at the same time. This was supposed to prevent sunburn - but it never did. Many a night I went to bed after a cool bath, with cold cream covering my seared and sorry skin. Afterwards, I'd peel like a banana and vow never to do it again. HAH! I'm older and wiser now and my pallor is preferable. It's interesting, isn't it. Despite warnings and proof that the sun can do more damage that we ever imagined, folks willingly... still get burned.

Friday, January 14, 2011

Lynn's Comments: During our first few days alone - sans the kids - we were surprisingly quiet. We were so used to our conversations being about children that when it came to other subjects, we hardly knew where to begin. Talking about "ME" and "YOU" feels almost selfish when so much of what parents do is for others. It took a few days to get past the need to talk about the kids, and even then it was hard.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Lynn's Comments: On the beach just outside the gate to our hotel, a young woman and her mother had set up a dress stand. They made and sold all kinds of dresses, many of which were baby-sized and beautiful. The young woman had a little daughter whose name was Samantha. It wasn't a common name at the time, and I thought it was so pretty. She was about the same age as Katie. I'd watch her and compare the two. I bought two dresses - one for me and one for Katie. It was an opportunity to talk to another mother and to play with her daughter who had the sweetest smile. Her hair was full of barrettes and her eyes sparkled with mischief. I wondered how the two little girls would get along. For months I had looked forward to being without my children, but it only took a couple of days to make me miss them more than I could say.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Katie was an attractive little kid and I fell into the "momtrap" of wanting her to look as cute as possible at all times. I had the adorable outfits, the velvet dresses, hats, scarves and mittens that matched her "girlie" snowsuits. I combed her hair just so and awaited the gooey compliments that come while showing off a preened and perfect princess. Kate, however wanted nothing to do with looking cute. Being comfortable was far more important. So was wearing what she darned well wanted to wear! She was determined and stubborn and it was abundantly clear by the time she was three, that what she wore would be a compromise. The red hat was actually a patterned toque and I would have drawn it that way, except that the pattern was too hard to draw and too hard to colour!

Monday, January 17, 2011

Lynn's Comments: When I go somewhere new, I want to see as much as I can. I want to take tours, ride the local buses, check out the markets and explore. Rod was content to relax on the beach and didn't mind if I went off on my own. The Tamarind Cove was an intimate little hotel. We had met some interesting folks on the beach and in the dining room - which often required that we share a table with other guests. I soon connected with a couple of eager shoppers wanting to go to adventuring. We collected our hats, strapped on our sandals and set out for Bridgetown.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Just outside the hotel entrance, there was a bus stop. I was told that I could either wait for the city bus or jump on one of the local transports. The local transportation was not much more than a half-ton truck with an open back into which people literally ran after and jumped into. Since it was a sort of private arrangement, the "bus" was not allowed to stop. When it did come barreling down the road, the other would-be passengers already knew to start running. Needless to say I was not ready to attempt this new and challenging style of travel and waited for the city bus, which was full of school children. I enjoyed standing at the back, admiring their uniforms and the many colourful ways in which the girls had their hair done: so many barrettes, so many different kinds of braids. It was worth the wait, for sure.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Lynn's Comments: The markets in Bridgetown are a complex jumble of colourful stalls, filled to the brim with baskets and clothing and goods of all kinds. The problem is that the vendors all seem to carry the same things and so it becomes a choice of who to buy from, based on the friendliness of the vendor and the appearance of the stall. The vendors are all friendly, so your time in the market is spent wandering up and down the busy, narrow passageways just looking and enjoying everything. I was surprised to find a woodworker who had taken a number of discarded planks and had carved intricate local scenes on them. His was the only booth in which there was something original and new, so I started a conversation with him. He told me about his home and his family and he asked about mine. After awhile, I felt rather obligated to support him and his work so I decided to buy a carving. The one I liked best was about 1.5 feet wide and 3 feet high. He wrapped it in newspaper, we shook hands like old chums and I lugged it back to the hotel.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Needless to say, my spouse did not see the artistic merit in the work I presented to him and asked that it be put somewhere "reasonable". The carving remained in our basement until we moved from Manitoba to Ontario - and I remember the lady who bought it at my mom-in-law's yard sale saying "how can you get rid of this - it's beautiful!" Goes to show you... that art is in the eye of the beholder.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Sunsets here in Canada have incredible charm - but when you're on a beach in the tropics, preferably after a couple of coconut coolers, the early evening sky can inspire love songs, paintings and poetry. The sound of tiny green frogs tweeting in the trees, the sway of the palm trees, the shushhhh of the waves...fine, soft sand cushioning your toes.... (you can tell I'm writing this in January) make the Caribbean a place like none other. We honestly couldn't believe we were there. At home, it was -20 degrees and here it was perfect body temperature. We had brought our parkas down to Barbados - having no one to store them for us in Winnipeg - and one day, just for fun, we decided to wear them on the beach. Standing on the hot sand in our boots and winter parkas, with the fur hoods low over our faces, we were quite a sight. Even the hotel staff took pictures! They had never before seen such clothing and it gave them an idea of the weather we lived in and why we were so glad to be there!

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Lynn's Comments: The trip home was a tense one. Our flight was delayed and foggy January conditions made me nervous. I was often more comfortable in our own plane. We could choose not to fly if the weather was bad. Our charter took us back to Winnipeg, but we now had to wait for two more scheduled flights: a small jet to Thompson and the Twin Otter to Lynn Lake. I was never able to show in the strip the reality of our northern lifestyle. I imagined the Pattersons living outside the city of Toronto with all the luxuries of big city living - while Rod and I managed the intricacies of getting into and out of an isolated community of 2000 people. In our plane, a Cessna 185, I often flew part of the way. It felt good to be in control. In a commercial aircraft, I had the feeling that I was helping - even if I was just staring at the wing!