Lynn's Notes:

Parents of young children can easily carry on two conversations at once. While showing a toddler that you are there and paying attention to them, you can also listen to and process adult communication. This is not something a non-parent can tolerate and now that I'm well past coddling a toddler, I can't stand it either!

Lynn's Notes:

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!

Lynn's Notes:

Alan would often call my kids "short one," which I thought was charming. One day on a business trip, I got into an elevator with a woman and her young son. I looked down at him and said, "Hiya, short one!" His mom immediately berated me for saying cruel things to a child who had an illness and was abnormally small for his age. AAAUGH!

Lynn's Notes:

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!

Lynn's Notes:

My parents said this to us and I said it to my kids. When I did this strip, I had a mental image of thousands of parents nodding their heads and thinking, "I've said that, too!"

Lynn's Notes:

Going back to the story of the Nova Scotia magazine and the unpaid bill: We artists are a clan. We stand up for each other. A large, aggressive illustrator I knew was heading home to the east coast to visit his family. I told him about the magazine, which had commissioned an illustration from me and refused to pay because they had used another artist's work. He happened to know the editor of this magazine and promised to see what he could do. A few weeks later, he came to my home with a cheque for fifty dollars - the amount I was owed. I was thrilled. I asked what he had done to convince the editor to pay my bill. He said, "Well, after I reached over, grabbed his shirt, and pulled him across his desk, he thought it might be a good idea to pay up."

Lynn's Notes:

I once did a series of illustrations for a publisher who produced a quarterly children's annual. He didn't pay me and wouldn't answer my calls. I came up with a plan. The next time he needed a small piece of art, I agreed to do it, but rather than mail it to him, he had to come to my home and pick it up. When he arrived, I refused to give him the art until he paid his bill. He said he was broke and would do anything to even things up. I asked him to mow my lawns, which he did. I still savour that image!

Lynn's Notes:

Situations like this are not uncommon for freelance artists, writers, and musicians. The philosophy seems to be; "The skill comes FREE to you, so it should come free to me, too!" This same freeloader wouldn't think of not paying their dry-waller or mechanic, but artists are used and abused! It's all part of the education you need in order to survive. You soon learn to value your own work, and to defend your right to make a living by it!

Lynn's Notes:

I was once hired to do an illustration for a magazine in Nova Scotia. It was a rush job. I had to get the art there by courier - for which I paid. When I didn't receive a cheque in ninety days, I called to complain. I was told they had used another artist's work, and since they "paid on publication" and my work had not been published, I was out of luck. I was also out the courier charges!

Lynn's Notes:

Living on my own and working freelance meant that I was always very short of cash. One of the things I hated most was asking my clients for the money they owed me. I did all the right stuff; I had a proper billing system and a business license. All I needed was to be paid on time. It amazed me when people who could well afford to pay, made me wait for weeks - sometimes months...or didn't pay at all. I had to become more assertive, but it was hard!

Lynn's Notes:

Katie was able to crawl into the tiniest places and we did "lose" her in our roomy house from time to time. One of her favourite spots was under the kitchen sink, which meant I had to put the soaps and cleaners in another place. Convenience always takes a back seat to safety!

As a kid, I loved hide and seek. I attended kindergarten in a private home across the street from ours. Our teacher, Miss Stewart, often had us play this game, but we had to stay within the classroom. How dull! I knew her house well and when it was my turn to hide, I left the room and hid in her broom closet. Kids searched for me and Miss Stewart hollered. I eventually got bored waiting for them to find me, so I decided to surprise them all by taking my clothes off. When Miss Stewart opened the door to the broom closet, there I was in my birthday suit. Immediately, she pulled a small rug off the floor, flung it in front of me, and told the class of giggling kids to go back to their chairs and wait. At once, I was shoved into my duds. Miss Stewart's sister watched the class as she marched me across the street to my house. Mom opened the door to a barrage of complaints, accepted me into the house, thanked Miss Stewart, and sent me to my room. That day, I was expelled from kindergarten. I guess this was the last straw!

Lynn's Notes:

This is what life was like when I was focused on my work. Time disappeared when I went into the world of For Better or For Worse. Aaron and Kate were used to waiting for me to come back to earth. In the meantime, they learned to be self-sufficient.

Lynn's Notes:

After watching Dad build yet another dud, Alan decided to build a more conventional go-kart. He took apart our old baby carriage and used the wheels. This looked good, but the axles and the wheels were too flimsy to withstand our abuse. Mom was angered by the destruction of the carriage, so Al removed the carriage wheels and took apart our wagon instead!

Lynn's Notes:

Our dad was a big kid at heart. He enjoyed riding the hills as much as we did. I always wondered why he was so eager to join us in our games and our fantasies. I later read in his sister's (my aunt Bessie's) diary, that he had always held a part time job, and after his dad was injured in the shipyards, he was sent to work full-time at the age of seventeen to help support his family. He never really had a childhood - and loved to share in ours.

Lynn's Notes:

When dad had a mind to build something, he made great stuff. Trouble was, he under-built everything, and what looked like a sturdy vehicle, would last for perhaps two good runs. St. Andrews and St. George's Streets bordered our block of East Fifth and were two of the steepest hills in North Vancouver. Our "Dad-made" go-karts disintegrated instantly - but they had potential. Each one he built lasted a bit longer than the last one, and we always hoped for a kart that would make it through the summer.