cookbook: Browse The Strips
Wednesday, January 30, 1980
Sunday, May 25, 1980
Tuesday, January 27, 1981
Saturday, April 2, 1983
Monday, May 23, 1983
Monday, May 21, 1984
Tuesday, October 2, 1984
Thursday, May 23, 1985
Saturday, December 7, 1985
Tuesday, March 25, 1986
Sunday, May 4, 1986
Sunday, November 15, 1998
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Monday, May 21, 2012
Lynn's Comments: Aaron and Katie were pretty good about eating whatever I made--but company cooking could pose a problem. I was often determined to make something I'd never made before, and sometimes, the results were less than great. This meant the kids ate Kraft Dinner while our guests ate the experiment. Only once, my husband said he wished he had taken that option as well.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Lynn's Comments: The great Johnston yard sale was an epic event. Everyone in Lynn Lake knew that Ruth had squirreled away some fine stuff and looked forward to seeing what would be up for grabs. Tables had to be borrowed from the church next door. It took us two days to price everything and set it out on display. As luck would have it, the event took place on the day of the high school graduation. Students in their best duds crowded around the tables, trying to score a deal ahead of the old guys.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Lynn's Comments: This punch line was ahead of its time; today, it might be a viable reality show!
Saturday, December 6, 2014
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Lynn's Comments: Some of the best events I got myself into were the ones for which I was "volunteered". Because I couldn't say "no", bake sales, costume sewing bees and skating festivals were all part of my time in Lynn Lake Manitoba. Some of my favourite memories are of these of bee-hives of activity in the company of other moms trying to do everything for everyone all of the time!
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Lynn's Comments: After this strip ran, I received dozens of letters from readers who wanted to know what the heck was Michael doing with a bag of milk! Everyone knows that milk comes in waxed paper cartons or in plastic jugs, so what was this all about anyway?!
All an artist has to draw from is what she sees around her, and in my place of residence, milk comes in cartons, but also in strong plastic bags with a set of three bags of milk inside. Each smaller bag contains a litre of milk and we use special plastic or pottery jugs to keep them upright in the fridge. This way of packaging milk is as familiar in Canada as Coke in a can, so I assumed my readers everywhere would get the gag! Not so. The thing that struck me about the questioning letters was that some of them were as cruel and derisive as the trolls on the internet are today. They spoke with indignant authority, demanding to know what the **** I was talking about! Didn't I KNOW that milk doesn't come in bags?
Fortunately, this was when mean messages came with return addresses and we had a lot of fun sending photos and copies of milk advertisements to those who needed to see it for themselves. The impression I got from this was that not enough people travel, and they should!--Especially to Canada.
All an artist has to draw from is what she sees around her, and in my place of residence, milk comes in cartons, but also in strong plastic bags with a set of three bags of milk inside. Each smaller bag contains a litre of milk and we use special plastic or pottery jugs to keep them upright in the fridge. This way of packaging milk is as familiar in Canada as Coke in a can, so I assumed my readers everywhere would get the gag! Not so. The thing that struck me about the questioning letters was that some of them were as cruel and derisive as the trolls on the internet are today. They spoke with indignant authority, demanding to know what the **** I was talking about! Didn't I KNOW that milk doesn't come in bags?
Fortunately, this was when mean messages came with return addresses and we had a lot of fun sending photos and copies of milk advertisements to those who needed to see it for themselves. The impression I got from this was that not enough people travel, and they should!--Especially to Canada.
Eating the eggs we had so carefully coloured was difficult because we hated to destroy the shells. This resulted in mom's "Easter tree". She would carefully break each shell in half, use a needle to tie a thread to the top and hang the shells from the branches of a small shrub she'd placed in a vase. For us, Easter Sunday was as enjoyable as Christmas--and without the expense!