Lynn's Comments: Yes, this is from my childhood, then from my children's childhoods...and I'm still writing letters on everyone's behalf! Mind you, they email more than I do. I still send hard copy. Maybe that's what's hard about it.
Lynn's Comments: I used to ask the kids to help take the tree down. I thought it was a nice way to spend time together. Their help lasted for a few minutes, of course, and after awhile, I did it all myself. Christmas is a wonderful time of year, thanks to all the moms who make it happen!
Lynn's Comments: When the content of the comic strip began to bore me a bit, I tried to introduce some angst into my writing. This story was based on a real situation, but I changed the details so that the people involved never knew it was their story.
Lynn's Comments: This punch line was fun to draw up. You have to get the right expression. Elly has to be looking dumped on, but not angry. Not yet. The anger comes afterwards...when the slight has sunk in.
Lynn's Comments: Our small, black Spaniel, Willy, never barked when a stranger came to the door. He would probably have welcomed an assailant on a dark street, but when the snowplow came up our long country drive, he became Superdog. He was a flea against an elephant; threatening the plow as it advanced and sure he had won when it backed away. He’d bark himself silly every time our driveway was cleared and it always made me laugh!
Lynn's Comments: It was a good thing that I worked from home because our second vehicle, for awhile, was totally useless. It was too cramped for kids, too small for groceries; I could never see the point in owning a sports car. But…I'm not a guy. Maybe you look good if you're "wearing" one.
Lynn's Comments: Every first snowfall, I used to hit the ditch. Maybe it’s because I was used to driving fast on rough, flat surfaces and didn't have my winter reflexes. Whatever the reason, I would call our friend Gerry Voyer and ask him to pull me out. A couple of times, this happened on our country road and I'd walk to Gerry’s garage where he’d get out his truck and take me to the scene of the "accident." One winter’s day, I was taking a long stroll down MacPherson Drive when Gerry passed me in his truck. He stopped, rolled down his window and sighed. "OK," he said. "Where is it?" He thought I had hit the ditch again and was coming for help. It was then that I realized just how often I had run off the road!
Lynn's Comments: Here is when writing and drawing can take you away on an imaginary flight. You see others in turmoil as you fly over and around them in safety—trying to figure out what they are going to do next. I often wonder if, in reality, there is someone out there writing and orchestrating the comic strip I live in!