home: Browse The Strips

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Again, this is all from memory. This is my brother and me doing nasty, irritating things to each other, just to cause a rift. Perhaps it's because we were easily bored. Perhaps it's because it rained a lot and we always seemed to be indoors. For some reason, we couldn't pass up an opportunity to upset one another and this lasted until we were in our teens. No wonder our folks were so pleased when we moved out!

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Lynn's Comments: I don't think my brother ever wished I'd been a brother and my wanting a sister was set aside when I saw friends fighting with their sisters over clothes and dolls and hairpins. Aaron never said that a brother would have been preferable to Kate... so, this idea came from somewhere other than "us". Still, from listening to conversations over the years, I knew that for somebody somewhere, this thought rang true.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Lynn's Comments: My brothers' smoking was always a bone of contention. He was still puffing when I did this strip and I was still trying to get him to stop. I don't think he ever blew up the kiddie pool, but he did play the trumpet professionally and I wondered how his lungs held out!

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!

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Lynn's Comments: We didn't have lockers until grade six, but the comic value of the leftover sandwiches, fetid gym clothes and unidentifiable crud couldn't be denied. Our lockers were both a repository for school supplies and a place to stash everything else. It was a tiny, private storage unit; our first "home away from home".

Friday, June 17, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Our childhood home on Fifth and Lonsdale in North Vancouver was where all the neighborhood kids seemed to congregate. When our sprinkler was on, it meant food, fun and a bathroom if you remembered to use it! My folks were tolerant and welcoming and everyone took their generosity for granted. They rarely complained, however - they wanted to be able to look out the window and know where we were!

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Father's Day has always been one of the more challenging Sunday comics to produce. We never really made too much of it when I was a kid and later, when my two were small, it was a day when the best "present" was to let Dad spend the day in his workshop! Still, it's a day that puts the spotlight on dads and children, no matter what the marital dynamics are - which is a good thing. We need more Father's Days and Mother's Days, if you ask me. Heaven knows- there's nothing more rewarding than being recognized and appreciated for doing a difficult job well!

Monday, June 20, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Aaron was a baby when Farley roamed the house. Because he was my dog and I was used to him, I didn't panic when he'd sidle to the jolly jumper and remove Aaron's lunch from his face with his big, wet tongue. When I see a dog licking a baby's face today, I cringe. Perhaps that's because I no longer have either one!

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Lynn's Comments: The real Farley rarely left the property, but if he did decide to go AWOL, he'd be gone for the day. It was hard to find him in our housing complex and there was a ravine to get into as well. It was the highway close by that really worried me. He was big and cuddly, but a pretty dim bulb; as canines go, he was no "Lassie"!

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Lynn's Comments: This was based on a scenario which once kept my neighbours, Marg and Kenny, up all night. Their small dog "Pixie" took off for parts unknown and Marg was so upset, she had to be sedated. Meanwhile, police, firemen, neighbors and family combed the area without success. Pixie later appeared on her own. She had been under the porch, too afraid to come out with all the crying and commotion going on.

Friday, June 24, 2011

Lynn's Comments: My brother was not living with me at the same time Farley did. This was all part of the creative process. Having the dog, the brother, two kids and a husband all under one roof appealed to me as a cartoonist. Had I really shared my space with this lot, I think I would have been the one to run away from home!

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Lynn's Comments: This is a situation where a really bad and insensitive "joke" can be nicely covered up by putting it within the strip, not completing the sentence and using a friendlier punch line!

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Lynn's Comments: I loved slapstick movies. Good animated cartoons kept me glued to the screen at the Odeon Theatre every Saturday afternoon. One of the most overrated gag ideas has always been the "slip on a banana peel". This pratfall was something my brother and I tried unsuccessfully to recreate many times. You need: a ripe peel, a slippery linoleum floor and a bozo who doesn't look where he's going. All three are hard to put in the same place at the same time without deliberate and calculated effort. Unsuccessful with the surprise attack, we tried the stunt on each other, our buddies and our dad. (Mom would have whacked the both of us for doing something so stupid, so she was out of the scene altogether.) We never did recreate the wonderful slip, slide and landing that was so funny in the theatre. It was therefore important, once I had the freedom of a comic strip at hand, to complete this elusive gag in the newspapers and fulfil a lifelong quest.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Farley the dog was a lot of work. Not only did he bring every manner of grime into the house, he was a constant source of hair. There was hair everywhere; soft, fine, fly-away hair. Even though I vacuumed the house several times a week, balls of grey tangled fluff would blow across the room if you opened a window or a door. He was lovely to look at, but owning him was a full time job!

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Here it is; the truth about Farley and the family car. When I did travel with canine, I put a metal barrier between the hatch back compartment and the rest of the vehicle. This meant that baby and I could inhabit the space safely and without dander. The one time I left Farley in the car sans restrictions, he not only covered the windows with spittle, he jumped on the doorframe and locked himself inside.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Washing a large hairy animal is a challenge - even out of doors. I had tiled the bathroom floor, the bathtub was one of those old, deep ones and we had plenty of towels. I would wait until I had the time and the patience to tackle him and then the fun began. Farley tolerated bath time. He even seemed to enjoy it. The trouble was... what smelled clean to me smelled awful to him and as soon as he was dry, he couldn't wait to go outside so he could roll in disgusting, unmentionable things!

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Lynn's Comments: We tried tying him up, but he howled pitifully and we didn't want to annoy the neighbours. We took him to obedience school, but he was really hard to train. Farley never seemed to get the concept of being lead by a leash and in the end... I was at the end of my rope.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Lynn's Comments: It was fun to connect a pet, which was not allowed to go free, to my husband at the time, who complained about the same thing! I was called a "keeper" and my lack of understanding for "pub night" (which was pretty well every night) made me both judge and jailer . Husband and dog even looked alike! Not long after the man left (for a larger bosom and fewer responsibilities) the dog went too!

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 4, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Alan was always trying to quit. This and a serious lack of funds kept him without a reliable supply of smokes. He might say I'm making this up...but I do remember him sifting through the household refuse looking for salvageable butts. This is clear in my memory because despite my objection to smoking, I truly felt sorry for him!

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Al and I tried smoking as kids. Our parents rolled their own, using a long rubber contraption that made five smokes at a time. I became pretty adept at the art. You had to pack just the right amount of tobacco into the trough, wet the paper slightly and roll the mix so that the long uncut cigarette was even and perfectly smooth. The cigs were then cut with a razor blade. It was easy to pinch an entire roll of five. All our chums were becoming smokers, but even though it was the ultimate in cool, I just didn't like the taste, the smell or the awful feeling afterwards.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Lynn's Comments: I think this was one of my favourite lines. We all "game-play". At least that's what we call the back and forth tug of war that eventually establishes who we are in a relationship and where each of us stands. Although I consider myself a straight shooter, I've indulged in these wars of wit and worry, too. At 64, I'm happy now to be at an age where I can smell the manure and decide whether it's worth digging into or should be left to mellow in the grass!!

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Lynn's Comments: In 1974, after my first divorce, I dated a psychiatrist. One of his standby pieces of advice was to NOT think about serious things after midnight. This, he said, was a twilight zone where emotional fatigue and the onset of dreaming make sensible, rational thought all but impossible. He said it was best not go to bed angry, but at the same time, the chances of problem solving when you're tired are slim. The "twilight zone" thing has stayed with me since then and I have given others this same advice. The problem is...your problems all seem to surface when you're relaxed, have the day's chores behind you and the kids are asleep. Sometimes you HAVE to talk things over when you and your partner are in bed, because in today's busy household there are few other opportunities! So, despite the warning from my sweet psychiatrist, I would open up after dark and talk about whatever it was that was bothering me. Fortunately the broaching of sensitive topics never resulted in late night fisticuffs. My husband, sedated by the sound of my voice, happily slept right through it!

Monday, July 11, 2011

Lynn's Comments: This was my dad, trying to assemble one of those wicked mind traps we used to buy from Woolworths - with the hope it would turn into a tent. The metal poles bent, the fabric wouldn't stretch and when you finally did get a shelter to come out of it, you were too mad to enjoy it!

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Alan and I would sleep outside in the backyard every summer. We'd look forward to the adventure of being outdoors - forgetting the mosquitoes, which instantly filled the floorless space as soon as the thing was rigged. With blankets, food, transistor radio, toys and bedrolls, we more than filled the enclosure. We were lucky, as the bugs bit and we bickered, if we could last two nights.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Lynn's Comments: We didn't have a bonfire in the backyard, but we did have deck chairs, flashlights and food. Dad played the guitar. He knew every camp and military ditty by heart and at this tender age, my brother and I thought he was absolutely wonderful. He was!

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Our tent was pitched just a few feet from the basement door, but still, we cringed if we heard anything suspicious or creepy or wild. I remember Mr. Arbuckle, our neighbor, coming home with a snootfull, creeping along his garden path, bumping into fences, trying not to alert his wife - who could yell like a banshee. We'd crawl far enough out of the door flap to watch him, and seeing us, he'd wave - knowing we could keep a secret. We liked him and figured he was doing stuff he had to do.

Friday, July 15, 2011

Lynn's Comments: This was a series I had so much fun with. Not only did I get to pretend I was a small boy with a wild imagination, I got to draw some funny images and include the dog as well. Strips like these were a pleasure to do and then seeing it on the comics page, knowing others were reading it too, was an absolute thrill.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Lynn's Comments: The thing that brought us indoors long before morning wasn't the wildlife but the bugs. Even now, the sound of mosquitoes whining around my head at night makes me crazy. When Mom finally allowed us to camp in the living room (the basement had spiders), camping became much more enjoyable. I don't think my mother could say the same!

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.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Ahh...the angst and the misery of romance. Most songs are inspired by either the discovery or the painful loss of amour. What else but a song can allow you to holler with sorrow or delight? We've all been in a triangle of some sort - jealous, helpless, confused...and this story allowed me to wallow in it all!