plate of food: Browse The Strips

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Lynn's Comments: My mother did not like surprises...or so she said. Gift giving was always a challenge for me because she was effusive, no matter what the gift was, so it was hard to tell whether I'd made the right choice or not. Mom was an excellent seamstress. She could make anything - even patterns from scratch. I was working at Woodwards in Vancouver, making a salary for the first time, so Dad and I decided to pool our resources and get her a Bernina sewing machine for her birthday. It was the latest thing. It could make designs and buttonholes without a template and you could use several colours of thread at once. It was expensive, however, and Dad worried that she'd be angry with us for spending so much when we could hardly afford it. He had to tell her our plan. Naturally, she said "Absolutely not!" She wouldn't have us spending wantonly on something she could well do without. So...we got her a jewelry box instead. When she opened her gift, we could tell that Mom was bitterly disappointed. "What's the matter?" Dad asked- genuinely surprised by her reaction. Pressing a hanky to her eyes, she cried, "I thought I was getting a new sewing machine!!" Go figure. Gift giving was always an awkward time in our family. Any time we did it right - it was a surprise!

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Lynn's Comments: No matter how open-minded you are, no matter how cooperative the relationship, there is always a sort of competition between mom and caregiver. Ruth's parenting style was something I admired and respected, but it was different! When I came home, I wanted to resume my role as the alpha female! After two weeks in her care, Aaron and Katie were now doing things Ruth's way and it took some time before they returned to the nest I had built. Ruth had given them a new routine and some new rules. I felt as though I could be replaced and I voiced this thought in FBorFW. Seeing this in pen and ink was like writing a letter to myself. It cleared my head. It made things better. Sometimes the strip provided an outlet that was healing and healthy for all of us!

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Lynn's Comments: When the kids were small, the work involved often filled a day. By suppertime when laundry, cleaning, shopping and meals were done, I wondered where the time had gone. It wasn't until the dishes were done and the kids in bed that I could sit down - without guilt - and enjoy the paper. It's amazing how "invisible" a housekeeper's job is! For those who share the home and enjoy the fruits of "Mom's labor" things like clean clothes folded neatly in drawers, a tidy, sanitary refrigerator, vacuumed rugs, washed floors, swept and organized closets, prepared meals, answered mail, full toilet roll holders and all the other myriad details that go into running a home seem to occur like magic. If you don't see or take part in the process, you just accept it and expect it all to be done for you. In fact, unless something is NOT done, you don't notice it at all! This revelation came to me when I hired a housekeeper. My sweet lady would come one day every week. I'd leave things for Janet to do. After awhile, dusting and ironing and clean floors just "happened". Recycling was done, mats were shaken and shelves were wiped clean...and if I wasn't there to have a coffee with her and see her work for myself - I took my clean house for granted! Being a "housewife" is a full time job. Add parenting to this and you have an all- encompassing career - for which many of us apologize! I was lucky enough to have a job that allowed me to work at home. I had two jobs! Strips like this one were done to support all the smart, productive and caring moms I knew who were struggling to stay sane. These comic strip complaints also made me less resentful of my own responsibilities. It felt amazingly good to confide my feelings to an unseen community of friends...millions of them!!!

Friday, April 1, 2011

Lynn's Comments: For me, making meals was one of the most challenging jobs on earth. A repast must be colourful and attractive enough to provoke interest, flavourful and aromatic enough to invite ingestion and healthy enough to support life. The local grocery stores (we had two) supplied fresh meat, but fresh veggies were another matter. I remember fighting over a wrinkled green pepper in Perepeluk's just so we could experience the taste! Aaron was not a fan of mushrooms, but if I could lay my hands on a fresh pack of mushies, by jove we were gonna eat them - and I wasn't making a fungus-free meal for HIM! He had, however, a tongue that could locate and isolate a mushroom in any mix and he'd ring his plate with rejects faster than a dog spits out pills! Today, of course, his palate has matured. He is an omnivore who, living in Vancouver, enjoys the best of vegetarian cuisine. I've watched him eat mushrooms many times... and it surprises me still that he does so - on purpose!

Thursday, May 12, 2011

Lynn's Comments: It was with some experience and in talking to friends that I put this thought on paper: Strange how someone can seem to reject you without a second thought, then feel as though they still had some kind of "ownership" when they see you with someone else!

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Lynn's Comments: As a newly single mom, I dated men long before I was ready to enter into another relationship. Still reeling from deceit and divorce, I'd tell my suitor details of the past - things I should have kept to myself. I figure it takes about three years for the dust to settle after a marriage break up - but when you're young, insecure and lonely you just don't have time!

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Aaron was extremely social and enjoyed walking up and down the cars, talking to the other passengers. He was well behaved and didn't get into trouble until the novelty wore off. His favourite place was the dining room where, if he was lucky, he'd score an extra dessert before the second seating.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Lynn's Comments: My method for writing strips was to stretch out on the couch with a lined pad of paper on my lap and imagine myself in the Patterson kitchen at suppertime. It didn't take long for the characters to begin a conversation and I would listen in. Like a tape recorder, I could run the commentary back and forth, change or modify the answers, and if luck was with me, I'd get a funny line. I remember being particularly happy with this one and wondering again, where the idea had come from. It was too good (I thought) to have come from ME!

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Lynn's Comments: This is an example of how to fill the audience in on a lot of information with one strip. If I didn't have time to show the audience what had transpired, I could trust one of the characters to "tell all" in a sequence like this.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Lynn's Comments: When my second child came along, I was living a different life, enjoying the company of new friends and helpful neighbours. They all got together and filled my freezer with great meals which could be easily thawed and served. Even when you're exhausted from pushing a kid out of your nether parts, sleep deprived, and sore enough to want serious drugs, you're still expected to create in the kitchen.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Joan (aka "Georgia") came into my brother's life when my kids were in elementary school. Because we were living in such a remote area, they didn't see a lot of Uncle Al, and didn't have the opportunity to observe his relationships. I did! Knowing he would read all the strips which alluded to him, I openly needled him, hoping he would spill the beans and let me in on his plans for the future. He didn't...until he was prepared to see it in the paper!

Thursday, December 29, 2011

Lynn's Comments: My spouse enjoyed big events. He was comfortable at conventions and other public gatherings, but when it came to having folks over to the house, he preferred a very small group. I guess it's because there was less to clean up!

Friday, December 30, 2011

Lynn's Comments: The pharmacist hosted the first New Year's Eve party we ever attended in Lynn Lake. Because the liquor store was in the pharmacy, libation flowed. It didn't take long before my husband was leaning dangerously. Fearing we'd make a scene in front of the town's professionals, I insisted we walk home. As we shuffled the six blocks between houses, we heard a truck behind us. It was the pharmacist and all the guys from the party. They were hanging out the windows... wildly cheering us on!

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Lynn's Comments: Again, this was a fabricated scenario. There wasn't much my kids wouldn't eat. Anything that went well with ketchup would go down; quiche included!

Friday, July 20, 2012

Lynn's Comments: There was a single rooster on the farm and he had become downright mean. Don figured that the hens had all been eaten by pigs or other animals while they slept in the barn, so the old bird had nothing to do and took his frustrations out on everybody. We were told to wear boots and to use them if we had to--since the rooster would often pull a surprise attack. He frightened Aaron, who was low to the ground, so we figured we had a choice: get the rooster a partner or put him down.

Just about then, the washing machine died, so Beth and I set out to find a replacement. An ad in the paper took us to a neighbouring community. The folks who were selling their machine just happened to have some nice white hens, so we added the price of a fat one to the price of the washer, loaded them both into the back of the truck and drove home. The men folk had stopped for a beer and were standing in the yard when we returned. Beth held up the burlap sack with the hen in it and announced that the rooster's new mate had arrived.

If there was opportunity for a wager out on the farm, the guys were keen. How would the new lady be received? Beth and I said she'd be attacked as soon as she hit the floor. The guys were more circumspect. They bet ten bucks that the rooster would be a gentleman. He'd welcome her to the pig barn, show her around, and THEN get to courtin'. Beth carried the sack and hen to the barn. The upper half of the doorway was open and the rooster was resting on a hay bale just inside. Beth lowered the sack over the barrier and shook it gently. The hen bounced onto the straw with a startled "AWWWKKK?!" The rooster awoke and was instantly on her--wings flapping and legs astride. We told the guys to pay up.

For a few days after that, we saw the hen and rooster together. They pecked around the yard and seemed to be happy. Aaron found eggs in the sod pile--a sign that the marriage was successful--and then the hen disappeared. Like the rest of the chickens, she had simply vanished.

For awhile, the rooster looked for her and then he got mad. He attacked Aaron and then me. He flew at Don's face while he was putting out feed and that was the last straw. Beth and I were getting dinner ready when we saw Don take his rifle and go into the bush behind the barn. We heard a sharp crack and then he returned. He had solved the problem "the way it's done on the farm." The rooster was gone forever...but his story lingers on.

Monday, October 8, 2012

Lynn's Comments: I don't remember mushrooms being a bone of contention for us growing up because fresh ones were too expensive and canned ones simply disappeared into the stew. Mushroom soup was a staple gravy base and casserole sauce, so it didn't count either. When actual fresh fungi were finally introduced to our palates, we were all grown up. It's our children who have had the luxury of rejecting one of the most delicious culinary delights known to man!

Saturday, November 3, 2012

Lynn's Comments: There were times that I did outshine my mom-in-law, but it was not in the pie-making department. I made great casseroles, soups, and stews; she did the breads, the roasts, and the baking. Both of us were fine in the veg department, so between Ruth and myself, we provided our men-folk with some mighty fine grub. There's nothing like two women in the kitchen--especially when they're both a bit competitive!

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Lynn's Comments: There was a law in our house: if you didn't like what was on your plate, it didn't matter--you had to eat it all. This rule was enforced unless we were too sick to sit there or were absent altogether! My brother, Alan, was always trying to escape the likes of cold creamed peas, canned corned beef, or liver in gravy. He would hide a wad in his pockets or the cuffs of his pants and, convincingly full, would leave the table.

Once he was being so gross at dinnertime, he was sent to his room to eat. He went happily and returned minutes later with a suspiciously empty plate. He said he had eaten everything, but there was evidence to the contrary; the gravy was scraped to the side of the plate and the toilet had just been flushed. With her hands on her hips, Mom accused him of lying, but he stuck to his story. It was his word against the gravy. She gave him "the glare" but he stared her down. Mom dragged Alan to the biff. She wanted to scope out the scene of the crime but found nothing to pin on him. The gravy trail was the only real evidence; the one thing that could trip him up. With Alan's ear between her thumb and forefingers, she marched him brusquely back into the kitchen to resume her interrogation...and found our dad happily washing the dishes. The accused's plate was clean. From that day on, the rule was altered to allow for differences in tastes and appetites. Once again, Alan had defied our mom, and Dad was a hero. Until then, even HE had to eat stuff he hated!

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Living in a cold climate means having the kids indoors. I swore that television would not be my babysitter, that my offspring would have wholesome, educational, and creative pastimes. I encouraged them to read, draw, build things out of wood, clay, and paper. I bought board games--we played Scrabble, Monopoly, and Crazy Eights. I let them take apart the vacuum cleaner and roll marbles down the hose. I did everything I could think of to keep them entertained, and they, in turn, participated--as long as I played with them. The plan disintegrated if I decided to leave them and do something else, which is when they begged for television. So, I caved. I gave in. I set them up with food and water and turned on cartoons. I was able to work, clean, do laundry, and get stuff done, while my children bathed in the glow of the tube. I felt guilty, but at the same time --anything that saves a mom's sanity deserves a place in the home.

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!

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Johnny Hart (Wizard of Id and B.C.) was a wonderful cartoonist and a great friend. One of my favourite cartoons shows BC hitchhiking. Rock after rock rolls by, but the riders won't pick him up. Then the "camera" pulls back to show a sign slightly ahead of where B.C. is standing. It says, "CAUTION. DIP IN THE ROAD."

Friday, July 18, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Another cartoon I remember, was a panel in the New Yorker: Two couples are standing in front of a large, elaborate fireplace after having had an extravagant dinner in one of their homes. The caption read something like, "Dinner for dinner, lunch for lunch--.we're even." This really appealed to me. When someone asks me to dinner, I am immediately wondering when and how to reciprocate!

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Having Connie and Lawrence move away was a big decision. Connie was a regular character--Elly's best friend, in fact. In losing these two familiar faces, I would have to rethink the dynamics of the neighbourhood, and create a new group of friends. I did this because I was juggling too many characters. I felt my work was getting stale and I needed a challenge.

Sunday, August 17, 2014

Lynn's Comments: My kids liked most vegetables, so eating wasn't a problem. A cartoonist who draws on family stuff for gags, however, needs the gag reflex of unpalatable foods--and the thing about peas is, they're funny! Squash is funny because of the name, and of course the goofy shapes it can come in. A head of lettuce can be funny, I guess, but peas are made for comedy. They are hard to get on a fork, look like frog parts, and roll onto the floor easily. They are easy to spit, mash, or fling off a spoon. They can be bright or bilious green depending on how "left over" they are, and dogs, for the most part, hate them. Anything a dog won't eat is usually spurned by kids.

I have done several gags about this maligned dicotyledon, and the surprising result is that I have had no complaints. I thought there was a reader out there for every complaint possible, but so far I have heard nothing from pea fanciers, associations, or "protect the pea" movements, and I'm curious; now that I have mentioned this lack of interest, will I finally hear from these people?

Saturday, January 10, 2015

Lynn's Comments: This is a true story. The freezer didn't break down, but it did have to be moved and therefore defrosted. I pulled out an archive of forgotten leftovers, summer fruit and fishing acquisitions, dry pie crusts, soup stock, and more. Some of this was still recognizable, so a mess of reconstituted fodder graced our plates for a week or two. People actually ate what I served--and the freezer was then refilled with the leftovers from the leftovers. We recycle.

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Lynn's Comments: I had fun showing a family of Japanese descent serving Tacos for dinner. This is part of the fun of living in a country where culture and cuisine are shared easily and often.

Saturday, October 3, 2015

Lynn's Comments: Our dog, Willy had a permanent roost under Katie's chair. As soon as she was seated, he'd race into position and wait. It didn't take long for her to become an accomplice in the game of "don't feed the dog." This charade went on relentlessly, and the only player who lost was me.