doll: Browse The Strips

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Lynn's Comments: When my paternal grandmother came to stay with us for 6 months, I was 16 and very independent. My parents both worked, so it was my job to get the dinner on and Gram's appearance in the kitchen was "one too many cooks!" She had just lost her husband, was lonely and depressed, and my dad had invited her to stay. Having spent her adult lifetime looking after others, she naturally put herself to work--on my turf! From the day we set eyes on each other, we were rivals. Gram had my bedroom. I was sleeping in the basement in a "room" made of plywood boards and a curtain. I resented this terribly. I resented her teeth in a glass on my dresser and her clothes in my closet. I also resented being told what to do by someone other than my parents, and her criticism irritated me beyond belief.

One day I saw her fidgeting with the oven. It was a gas oven, and she wasn't familiar with the way the oven worked. When I tried to tell her how to do it, she barked at me to mind my own business, that she knew how to operate an oven, and to get out of her way. Figuring this would be a great opportunity to see what would actually happen if you lit the oven the wrong way, I crossed my arms, leaned against the doorway, and watched. First she turned on the gas. The oven door was closed. Interesting. Then she looked for a match. She found the matchbox on the wall and took out a match. She went to the stove, struck the match on one of the elements and opened the oven door. Well--Ka-BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!! The explosion blew Granny across the room. She wound up on the opposite side--sitting on the floor with her back against the cupboard doors. Her eyebrows were gone, and all the hairs on her chin were frizzled black. The best thing of all was the look on her face. Her mouth had formed a little "o." I was thinking, "Wow! So THAT's what happens!" It took a few seconds before I reached out to help her up, and a few more for us both to realize that she could have been very seriously hurt! With grateful relief, we hugged each other, and for the rest of her stay, we held a truce.

Saturday, January 24, 2015

Lynn's Comments: This story was told to me by our good friend Larry Boland. We were sitting in his living room. His wife, Marilyn, was bringing in the tea, when I looked up and admired their lovely ceiling. Marilyn smiled and said that thanks to Larry, it had just been redone. Larry described putting his foot through the plaster with such detail that I had to put the story in the strip. Things people WANTED me to include rarely made the grade. I preferred the embarrassing stuff!

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.

Tuesday October 4, 2016

Lynn's Comments: The complex business of when to tell and when not to stymies everyone. Sometimes you're a tattletale; sometimes you're a hero. When I wrote for the kids, I could feel the inconsistency and the unfairness, and it occurred to me that "telling" is a tattletale when said with a whine, and information when said with anxiety.

Monday December 26, 2016

Lynn's Comments: I had a talking doll when I was about 8. She was entertaining for a while, but much more fun when her record broke and she became just a doll!

Monday May 1, 2017

Lynn's Comments: This is another story from the heart. My son had bunk beds in his room and my daughter just had a single bed. It was much easier for him to host a friend for the night than it was for her. When I let Aaron have a boys only all-nighter, it seemed as if Katie was being left out of everything. Sometimes, it’s hard to make things even, especially when a kid wants equality NOW!

Tuesday May 2, 2023

Lynn's Comments: I remember making mud pies and being convinced they were real. I even savoured the stones that were in them. These days, having a good imagination allows me to enjoy some of my worst cooking.