Many folks have written this week to point out that in the course of our latest story we have confused knitting and crocheting. I humbly apologize to everyone whose art form we got wrong. I personally am forever having to explain to people the difference between animated cartoons and print comics, so I know how maddening it can be when civilians show their ignorance of what to an insider is completely obvious. All I can say is that, like many cartoonists, I am lazy, and will avoid doing an extra bit of research to insure accuracy when resorting to a preconceived, stereotypical notion will do. I also must confess that I knew I probably wasn’t getting it right and I wanted to see what would happen. Sometimes I wonder if there’s anyone out there paying attention. I find that any time someone writes in, even to express the opinion that I am a dolt, it’s gratifying. Of course, you could write in and say I’m awesome, too. That’d be fine.
It’s mundane to rhapsodize about spring, but here it’s one of the best things about Eastern Pennsylvania. Currently, the yard is practically buried in flowers, the azaleas battling the rhodedendrons, with the impatiens and begonias brought in as backup. Cartooning can be a lonely occupation, but I never get tired of drawing by an open window in my bare feet listening to something I like and feeling a soft breeze. It was kind of my fantasy of adulthood and I never get sick of it.
Our comic runs in the Philadelphia Inquirer, so all week, as we make our way around Philly, people have been asking us if we have chickens. This is because people always assume that everything that happens in our strip also happens to us in real life, even though they may actually know us personally and be fully aware that, for instance, neither of us bears any physical resemblance Len or Abby. No, we don’t have chickens, though we know several people who do, including one family on our street that had several in a very nice coop until they got a big dog and had to give them up. Chickens are hip, and have been for awhile, even though a lot of people still seem surprised by that. In fact, as I understand, they’re even a bit passe–the next big thing is goats, which keep your grass short and give you milk. No plans for the Ardins to get one any time soon, but if one shows up, you’ve been warned. And no, it won’t mean we have one, too. Not necessarily, anyhow.