Monthly Archives: September 2014

Tuesday September 2, 2014

Lynn’s Notes:

I once admitted to a male friend (not a partner) that I had told a best friend some very intimate personal things…and he said that guys often tell their best friends intimate personal stuff too. I guess it depends on who the people are, what the information is, and why it had to be shared. I refuse to feel guilty about spilling my guts to a trusted friend. Sometimes, when the dam is about to break…you go to someone with a life raft!

Wednesday September 3, 2014

Lynn’s Notes:

When I was about 10, I watched as a family moved into one of the houses where we lived on 5th Street. My friend Evelyn’s father was watching too and when he saw the big assortment of tools the new guy had, he said "I don’t know this guy, but I like him already!" Both men were mechanics — who looked after their stuff.

Friday September 5, 2014

Lynn’s Notes:

This strip received some nice mail. Folks expected to read a sarcastic punch line. Growing up in North Vancouver, we were always playing with and studying next to kids from China, Japan, and other Asian countries. In fact, it was hard to learn French as a second language when we were more familiar with Mandarin and Japanese. I wanted to draw an Asian family, and the Enjos stepped in.

Saturday September 6, 2014

Lynn’s Notes:

The name "Enjo" was for my grade six home economics teacher. Miss Enjo was a sweet and lovely lady and must have been in her twenties at the time. My dad guessed that her last name had been longer and had been shortened when her family immigrated to Canada. The family I made up was based on the Masuda family — who had known my in-laws in Lynn Lake, Manitoba. They had also moved to North Bay, which was a nice coincidence: We had friends here to make us feel at home.

Sunday September 7, 2014

Lynn’s Notes:

My folks used to take us to farms in the Fraser Delta for fresh strawberries. Both Alan and I were too young to enjoy picking, but we sure liked eating them. One day when our family was standing at the checkout with our baskets of strawberries, the man at the till looked at my brother with a curious smile. Alan was covered from his mouth to his navel in red juice. The man picked him up, put him on a big metal scale, and announced that he had to charge for the extra weight of the berries inside. He was kidding, but Dad paid him a little extra anyway.

Every summer we went as a family to get fresh fruit in season. In the Okanagan, we got peaches, plums, and apricots. It was a long drive but worth it. Mom canned everything, so we had the luxury of fruit preserves all winter long. Nothing tasted like the fresh stuff, though, and on one trip, Dad said we kids could eat whatever we wanted — so we did! As I said, it was a long drive home. With two kids full of fresh fruit, it’s easy to imagine the results. We used the “roadside” washroom many times, with Mom hiding us behind her skirt as Dad looked madly around for paper!