mess: Browse The Strips

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Lynn's Comments: The town of Lynn Lake was so small, an older kid could successfully hit every single house on Hallowe'en - as long as the frost didn't get him. Our place on Elgin Avenue was right in the middle. With a lane behind us and one of the busier streets in front, both our front and back doors were busy from about 4 in the afternoon until late at night. Some years, we might count as many as 180 trick or treaters and I remember dipping into our own kids' treat bags after we'd run out. Our favourite thing to give out was toothbrushes. One year, fearing we'd get egged for handing out something other than "treats" we decided to give the kids chocolate bars. Surprisingly, people were disappointed. Turned out the toothbrushes were something they all looked forward to! Just goes to prove- that on a night when witches, devils, and scary things roam....you never know what to expect!

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Lynn's Comments: Heaven was lying on our living room couch, eating and watching TV. With the old wood and coal furnace, our house was always cold and the warm spot on the couch was something my brother and I fought over. Yes, we fought over the warm spot! So, once ensconced on the sofa, I hated to remove myself and lose that precious bit of heat! If Dad was the one to order you off the couch, you might be able to beg a few more moments of repose. An order from Mom, meant immediate compliance. In this strip, John uses the "ferocious" method of kid-removal. I used it, too. When all else fails, we parents often resort to animal behaviour. I stopped at taking them by the scruff of their necks with my teeth, however!

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!

Monday, December 27, 2010

Lynn's Comments: The alcove in my mother-in-law's house was too small to allow for an organized dropping of outerwear. Likewise the closet in our front hall was a "bin" you dove into head first hoping to find something that, if not matching, at least fit! Along with the jumble of boots, mitts and whatnot came the sand, the pine needles and an omnipresent puddle of gritty, melted snow. If this cache of crud bothered you, it would be a thorn in your side for 8 months! This is how long winter lasted in northern Manitoba. You just had to get used to it. Spring would warm the roof for a few days before summer came and this is when the hall heap of winter wear would be dissected, paired up and thrown into the laundry. More often than not, we discovered things left by friends and friends of friends, which lead to the neighborly tradition of returning stuff and picking stuff up that you had left behind. Last week, I noticed that my daughter Katie, (now 33) had on a pair of mittens she's had since she was little. I wondered how they had lasted for so long - still in a pair, still wearable. Somehow, they'd survived the family "filing system". It goes to show you that favorite things find their way to the surface, no matter how deep the pile!

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Lynn's Comments: They say that "normal" means different things to different people. For us, normal morphed from one reality into another as the kids grew and changed and became individuals. When they were little, reality was toys - everywhere. Later, it was friends - everywhere - and the sounds of sports, music and video games. Normal didn't become tidy and organized and quiet until they both moved out. Then, normal meant projects and travel and missing them. I went to visit friends of my daughter's recently. Brooke and Matthew have twin daughters, six months old. The girls are just starting to toddle and their small living room is strewn with blankets and toys. Brooke apologized for the mess. I said, "Don't worry, relax - I understand. You have two little kids! ...This is normal!!!"

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Lynn's Comments: I confess. My kids had far too many toys. I wouldn't have called them spoiled, although I know they were...it's just that I love toys so much myself! The year that Rod and I were married, he moved into my house in Dundas. The garage was small and in order to make more room, we had to get rid of a few things - one of which was an original dime-operated Coke machine; a thing of beauty that my first husband had fought for, won and abandoned. Reluctant to let it go, we decided it would not be sold at a bargain price. Whoever wanted our Coke machine would have to make it worth our while. In those days nobody had much money, so when word of mouth brought us our only candidate, he was unable to give us more than 50 bucks. He was, however, an employee of Mattel - the big toy manufacturer and he threw into the pot an invitation to the annual Mattel staff Christmas sale! SOLD! The day we went to the big Mattel warehouse will forever live in memory. It was enormous. Barbie was still a big item as were all her pals. There were stuffed toys and baby toys and toys you could ride on, slide on and build. There were dolls and doll houses and tea sets and miniature kitchens and musical toys and child-sized furniture and you could have any of them in bulk and at prices we couldn't resist. Rod and I went crazy. We bought so many toys we could hardly stuff them into our small yellow Datsun. As we drove home, we regained our composure. The toy-fiend gratification gradually wore off and we wondered what we had done. We had one small boy to provide for, so what were we going to do with Barbie stuff? What were we going to do with everything we bought? We'd spent far more than the 50 bucks we got for the Coke machine! Without letting Aaron know that his parents had gone berserk, we hid our load in the attic. We gave away Mattel gifts at every opportunity. Everyone we knew who had a child received something from our stash. We were still giving stuff away as we moved to Lynn Lake and Katie received Barbies as soon as she knew the word "doll". I'm still a toy enthusiast. I love toy stores and an invitation once to the big toy fair in New York was toy heaven! I try not to buy anything. I don't need anything and in my house, I don't have space. Someday, however, should I ever become a "granny" I'll be shopping again for toys...but I won't be buying them for my grandchildren...I'll be buying them for ME!

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Lynn's Comments: My mother used to nag me constantly! Seems there was always something better to do than play or draw or watch television. The way I saw it, my room was my room and if I had to climb over a Vesuvius of moldering junk to find the bed I slept in, then that was my problem. Clean and ironed clothing was not a priority, nor was washing behind bodily protuberances. I longed for the day when I could do what I wanted to do, eat what and when I wanted to, have my own space, my own money and my own rules. That didn't happen until I was 20 and married for the first time. Then, I amazed even myself. I became a stickler for cleanliness. My apartment was spotless. Clothes were immaculate, ironed and sorted into their exact compartments. The bed was made, the carpets lint free and the kitchen was a neat, organized workspace. It wasn't until I had children that I realized what a degenerate slob I had once been. Hovering over my son as he miserably shoveled the crud out of his bedroom, I could hear myself nagging...with the same tone of voice, using the same language my mother used. Time and time again I promised myself I would not turn into my mother and here I was saying the same darned things - with the same predictable response. Years have flown by. Both of my children have homes of their own and it amazes me to see that they live in clean and tidy environments. I guess, in the end, nagging pays off. My mother, had she lived to see this day, would have been both proud and vindicated!

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Lynn's Comments: The invention of the plastic container has given us the opportunity to save our leftovers until they are no longer a palatable alternative to fresh fare. At this very moment, I have three such containers waiting for consumption or compost...and since it's -20 degrees C outside, my guess is...I'm looking at guilt and garbage for at least one of them. Now that I think of it, I have several half finished jars of jam, an opened bottle of wine circa Sept. 2010, mustard that has no discernable label and a jar of beets I think I bought last spring. I also have fresh stuff I should deal with - and I will, today, most likely.... but as luck will have it...I've been invited out to lunch.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Lynn's Comments: There really were times when I felt like the family drudge. I guess the problem with housework is...it's never done. Or, to put it another way... it's UNdone as soon as it's finished! I actually enjoy cleaning and organizing stuff... but the thrill is lost as soon as the door opens and some clod walks in with a wad of crud on his boots. Nobody wants to hear Mom complain- about anything. Forget the old "kids should be seen and not heard" quote... mothers are seen, heard but ignored - which is worse! I whined, complained, begged and pleaded and envied my more relaxed friends who could sit and read a book while the dishes formed a crust and the baby ate dog hair. Looking back, I wondered why I even TRIED to keep a tidy house. Who really cared? What my kids remember most about me is...my cooking!

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Katie wasn't the performer I made her (as Elizabeth) out to be. It was Aaron who could have earned an academy award for drama. It wasn't unusual for him to collapse onto the floor with gut-wrenching heartbreaking sobs as he faced the job of putting his Lego back in its box or picking up his shoes. From friends, I learned about an amazing secondary use for the egg timer. Rather than fight with my son, I'd show him the number of time-out minutes on the timer. The scene would go something like this: "NOOOO! I WON'T DO ITTTT!!! AAAAUGHHHHHHHH!!!!" and I'd say "You know what, Aaron, perhaps a little time out would be a good thing". I'd turn the timer to 5 minutes and show him the dial. "AAAAAAAAAAuuuuGGGHHHHH...NO FAIRRR!" Me: "OK, let's add another 5 minutes." Him: "WWWWAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!YOURE MEAN! I WONT DOOOOIIIITTT!" Me: (calmly) "Let's make that 15 minutes". (This is so much easier than fighting!) And so it went. One day, he racked up a full half hour and went wailing off to do penance. I thought I could still hear him crying, but it was an odd sound and the door to his room was shut. Then, I saw a strange red blob of something at the bottom of the door. It was moving. He had wedged his lips under the door and was howling through his squashed lips which moved like two wet worms. He was determined I should hear him cry! Yes, Aaron got the prize for dramatics and extra points as well for making me laugh 'til I cried!

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Lynn's Comments: I remember being so distraught that I could break stuff. At the end of my rope, I'd scream and cry and flop down on the floor exhausted and empty and defeated. This was last week! Seriously, when you're too young to understand and too inexperienced to deal with life's situations, collapsing in tears is the only way to respond. We've all been there and despite the fact that you look like someone to avoid...this is usually the time when you need love and understanding more than anything else in the world!

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Even now I lose my temper like this, but I recognize the feeling. I holler, fume, storm about the house and ...then I need to talk to someone! I remember being in such a state when I was about 10, that I stabbed the desk in my room repeatedly with a pair of scissors. Sounds drastic, but that's what I did. We all know how it feels to be beyond angry, to have no control and to do something that is spontaneous, outrageous and really out of character. In remembering how I felt when I destroyed my desk, I tried to love my kids just a bit more, hug them just a little tighter when they were at their (and my) wits' end. This calmed us both down enough to be able to talk about what was wrong. Sometimes the most unlikely response to bad behaviour is the one that works.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Lynn's Comments: When Alan came to visit us in Lynn Lake, he brought his trumpet. He travels with it everywhere and it was great for my kids to be able to hear him practice and to talk about his career. He and I grew up in a house full of music; something I have missed for a long time. I played 6 and 12 string guitar. Dad also taught me the button accordion! Alan played mandolin and trumpet and, to some extent, Dad played them all. To hear a melody come from an instrument played by someone you know is both healing and inspiring. Healing because no matter what we did to upset each other, the music we played put us into a space where we forgot our differences and became one. Inspiring because the competition between us to play better and to try new things kept both Alan and I close to our instruments and to our dad as well.

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Lynn's Comments: All told, the trip by train was a great adventure. We had spent quality time together in an environment of constant change and we saw our country from a different perspective. It's something I hope we can do again one day, but next time... I'll know the difference between roomettes and cabins!

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Lynn's Comments: This exchange is, word for word, from my own childhood. I knew if I said to my mom "do you think I'm some kind of servant?" she'd go completely off her nut. Why did I say it? I don't know. I have always enjoyed a punch line - even if it meant getting a punch in return! So, I said it and she swatted me and put me in my room. I hoped that when she saw this strip, she'd be vindicated... once more!

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Kate and Aaron both slept with one stuffed toy. It was me who filled my bed with stuffed animals and slept around them when I was a kid. My favourite was a koala bear that my grandmother brought back from Tasmania for me. It was real kangaroo hide and I loved him until his fur was almost gone. My brother stole him away from me once, insisted on sleeping with him, and then wet his bed. Mom couldn't wash my koala because he was leather, so her advice was to let him sit on the windowsill and air out: "In time he will be less 'whiffy'" she said. But he stank for years, so "Whiffy" was what I called him. I still have old "Whiff" in my china cabinet. He's sweeter smelling, now, and still well loved.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Lynn's Comments: I was happy with this punchline. In cartooning, a phrase like "turning over a new leaf" usually leads to a smart reply. You can also change the words: "A nerd in the hand is worth two in the bush". I always caution new cartoonists against using a familiar quote unless they are planning to use it in a zinger in the last panel.

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Lynn's Comments: I could never find my kitchen scissors. After looking high and low, I would buy a new pair and eventually those would disappear, too. This scenario was typical of a time when Kate and Aaron were small and things ended up in the garden, at the neighbours', or in the workshop--never to be seen again.

When Katie was a teenager, I made a declaration one day: she was grounded until she cleaned her room. Begrudgingly, she did so. The result? No less than nine pairs of scissors were discovered among the debris. The moral of the story? ... A string on the kitchen scissors might look silly, but you'll always know where to find them!

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Lynn's Comments: This scenario has been a cartoon staple for years. Even though we all try not to duplicate something we've likely seen before, there is always the need to do it your own way, using your own characters. The thing is to try and do it better than the last guy! I didn't succeed in doing this better than Doug Wright ("Nipper") for example, but simply drawing one more mess was enough to make me do this old chestnut one more time. My kids never did make me breakfast in bed--it's not something I like. I did hear from moms who enjoyed it, though--and I emphasize the past tense!

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Lynn's Comments: The comment "What you need is a wife," never used to bother me. I didn't think of it as sexist. For the most part, we are more organized; we like to keep things clean and tidy. Today, however, I'm more likely to take the side of the independent woman and say, "What you need is discipline, pride, and self control!" After his marriage, by the way, my brother became extremely tidy!

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Lynn's Comments: This is an invented scenario. The only cash I found in the dryer was small change...but a cheque, now and then, did make its way into the laundry. Too bad cheques aren't made from the same semi-washable material as paper bills!

Monday, September 3, 2012

Lynn's Comments: This is the truth. As a kid I said the same thing. Kids clean up their rooms to please their mothers and as a mother, I felt I deserved this small effort!

Saturday, January 26, 2013

Lynn's Comments: One of the things I resented about working from home was the inability to get away from housekeeping. I was jealous of friends who would dress well, leave for work, and enter an environment devoid of kids, dish detergent, and the omnipresent whiff of laundry. I thought it would be wonderful to have a separate space to call my own, and to have adult conversation when I needed a break from it all. Interestingly, the friends whose work-space I envied, thought I was the one who had it made.

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Lynn's Comments: The kids were never far away--I used to listen to their banter as they made up games, created forts in the living room, and played house. I was impressed by their ability to fantasize. I remembered my own childhood, when a mud pie tasted like the real thing, and if you rolled up in a blanket, you could fly. Even though we seemed to be "in a world of our own," we were still aware of our immediate environment.

Aaron, Katie and Aaron's friend, Roy, were playing one day, and some of their dialogue disturbed me--they were talking about bombs, murder, divorce, and other things they had heard about on television. This had to be absorbed, of course, and dealt with as much as any other experience outside of Sesame Street and Saturday morning cartoons. I worried that I was not talking to my kids enough. Later, when Roy had gone home, I asked them about their conversations, their ideas, and their perceptions. I felt good about being there to answer questions and explain some facts. In return, Aaron asked me if life was the same for me when I was a kid and I had to say that it was--we just didn't hear or see as much as they do now. We were far more protected from negative realities. When I think about it, we were really naive, and for that, I'm somewhat grateful!

I now have a grandchild. I see kids as young as two, happily using computers, eBooks, and iPads and I wonder how much more the babies of today are learning...too soon, too fast.

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Lynn's Comments: I had a couple of friends who were latchkey kids. Their parents worked and after work, they'd spend time at the bar before going home. Both girls were the guardians of younger siblings. They literally raised their brothers and sisters because their parents were never home. I remember being jealous of my friends' freedom. We played "house." We'd put the little ones to bed and pretend we were grownups. For me, it was a wonderful game...but later, I could go home and be a kid again.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Lynn's Comments: This is another strip that brought in the mail. "Never get sick on a weekend" could have been the title of a book as stories of interrupted sleep, well-meaning remedies, and all the things a mom still has to attend to despite fever and chills, came rolling in. No matter what I was going through, the letters I received told me I was far from alone!

Friday, March 22, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Now that I have a granddaughter to chase about, I have all the paraphernalia; including crib and highchair. Laura is just learning how to feed herself, so the above illustration says it all. Allowing for leaks, spills, and the occasional avalanche, I sometimes wish we still had our dog.... to help wash the floor beneath her.

Monday, March 25, 2013

Lynn's Comments: I would occasionally use the floor of my studio if I had larger illustrations to sort through--or to dry. Art supplies are a magnet for kids, and mine were often in the room looking for scrap paper and other things they were allowed to have. One time I did have posters drying on the floor and Katie did accidentally walk on them. Fortunately they were dry, but she was so upset, she cried. Today she is an artist, too--so even then, she had respect for original art!

Saturday, March 30, 2013

Lynn's Comments: I recently visited my son in his west coast apartment, and was gratified to see that he lives in a clean, tidy, and attractive environment. Amazing. After all that nagging, I really DID have an impact on my lethargic son... and it only took 30 years!