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.
Lynn's Comments: My husband, Rod, and I had purchased an aircraft: a Cessna 185 on floats with retractable wheels. Four of his friends had gone on an arctic canoe trip, and he had agreed to pick them up when they were done. Maps were spread out on the kitchen table of the remote location where they were to be found. Rod was confident he could find them and return them safely to Lynn Lake.
Lynn's Comments: I wasn't happy about the idea. We hadn't owned the plane for very long, and even though it was August, the weather could turn bitterly cold up there. The men could have taken a chartered Twin Otter from their landing spot, but Rod insisted he could get them home.
Lynn's Comments: Itinerary for the trip was carefully planned. Rod’s father, Tom Johnston, knew the area and had the planned location of the canoe party marked on a big aerial map. Their trip was to end at Yathyked Lake, where Rod could ease the plane into a bay and pick them up. It was going to be a long flight…much longer than expected. (To be continued…)
Lynn's Comments: This didn't happen, but here's a story that did: I was about 12 years old. For weeks, a cat had been coming to sit under my bedroom window and howl. It sounded like a demonic baby's cry, and I hated the sound. Nothing would deter the cat so one night, I decided to get even. I opened the window wide, placed a pitcher of cold water on the windowsill, and waited for the cat. Like clockwork, it arrived in full voice, and as soon as the howling reached a crescendo, I dumped the water. The cries I expected to hear, however, didn't come from a cat. They came from my brother who had a room in the basement. He had been sneaking out of his bedroom window and howling under mine!
Lynn's Comments: My daughter's husband is the kind of man who changes babies, walks them when they can't sleep, and takes care of them when they're sick. He feeds them, plays with them, reads to them, and does their laundry. This man is a rare breed. He should be cloned--And, he LOVES to fish!
Lynn's Comments: I have friends who are serious canoeists and they are in seriously good shape. After a couple of hours paddling last summer, I had to go to a physiotherapist for six months. No joke!
Lynn's Comments: My three-year-old granddaughter asks these kinds of questions every day. She also makes these kinds of observations. When you write a comic strip, you have to think like a kid. I think like a kid, and I don't ever want to grow up!
Lynn's Comments: When I did this strip, my husband and I had a Cessna 185 with amphibious floats. Much of our time was devoted to flying and to looking after the plane. My husband was a serious and well-trained pilot, and when he bought our son, Aaron, a model aircraft, he was sure he could fly it as well as he flew the Cessna. He quickly discovered that a model requires very different skills. This is yet another comic strip based on a scene from real life, and I don't think I asked for approval!
Lynn's Comments: This was a situation which came from my own childhood: My brother had twisted his knee in a soccer game and was being bullied by some bigger kids in the neighbourhood. He was limping and they accused him of faking the limp (even then we were both theatrical and always pretending to be something or someone else, so the accusation wasn't entirely without cause). I jumped between the bullies and him and threatened to beat them up if they touched my brother. At the time, this thought went through my head, "Nobody knocks my brother around but ME!"
Lynn's Comments: This story was based on a true story, which might have ended in tragedy.
My husband, who had been flying a float plane just long enough to feel confident, offered to pick up some friends after a canoe trip down the Kazan River in the Northwest Territories.
Lynn's Comments: I was angry with him. I wondered how he could do such a risky thing when he had a wife and two small children to consider. He was the kind of man who, when he decided to do something, actually did it! I went home and began the wait. His father's reassurance was comforting, but still, I worried.
Lynn's Comments: My three-year-old granddaughter and her friends have learned the word "consequences." When you do something bad--there are consequences. Recently, after a nice evening of playtime and stories, Laura decided she wasn't going to go to sleep. She whined and cried and tried to wake her baby brother, with whom she shares a room. Her mother, Katie, said she would have to give up her favourite sleep toys if she didn't end the strike. Laura whined and lost her teddy. She then lost her blankie, her pillow, her quilt and her sheets. The whining continued until she was lying on a stripped bed with nothing but her "pull-ups" to keep her warm. At this point she capitulated, stopped her bad behaviour, and decided to sleep.
Katie was pleased to have had the standoff resolved--thanks to "consequences."
Lynn's Comments: I thought about my children. I thought about the three other families who were now gathered together to wait for news--anything that would tell them what had happened, and what was going on. I called them every two hours. I called them just to let them know that everything possible was being done. I felt guilty for being so close to the scene and the first to know. It was all so surreal.
Lynn's Comments: This is true enough! I thought about all the petty things we had done and said to each other when all that really matters is life and love, and the knowledge that everyone is safe. When someone is gone, you go through the litany of "what ifs" and "if onlys," and ask "why?" It made me realize how suddenly things can change, that we should appreciate each other each and every day, and be truly grateful for what we have.
Lynn's Comments: Our kids fought over the family hammock, and we knew it would be a bone of contention until: 1) they grew up, or 2) one of the trees fell down. In a storm one night, the problem was solved; the bigger of the two trees was uprooted and had to be removed. The irony was that both kids were grown and gone by then.
Lynn's Comments: This is a scene from my childhood. I liked being indoors. I enjoyed drawing and reading. Once I did go outdoors, however, it was hard to drag me back in. I remember my mom nagging me to get out and enjoy the sun and the summer--while it lasted. Seeing her asleep was a rare thing. She was one of those people who worked from sun up until sunset, and to find her relaxing anywhere was surprising. I think I'm a lot like my mother!
Lynn's Comments: In the comic strip, Michael was old enough to understand what had happened and could talk about the adventure with his friends. At the time of the accident, however, our children were not aware of the seriousness of the situation. All they knew was that Daddy had gone for a trip and big planes had come to town to look for him.
Lynn's Comments: As a family, we didn't attend church too often, but our faith played an enormous role during the search and rescue--and afterward. How comforting it was to have something; someone out there, more powerful than one can imagine to turn to, to talk to, to trust.
Lynn's Comments: If you don't have a dog, it's difficult to make jokes about stuff that dogs actually do. Little incidents like this one, taken from everyday life, inspired my imagination. Using this as material for the strip, saved my dog from woe.