Part of the joy of writing “Little Dee” was when I was able to crack myself up. Vachel, with their history of vacations, chained to a chair, buried to his neck in sand, with a gleeful Dee nearby and Ted saying that he’s “playing with Dee” just floors me.
I mean, I’m glad you all like the strip too. ;-)
Even though I joke about this, when living in New England (wherabouts I just moved to again) the months of December, and then January and then on to February and a little of March were just killer. Dark dark, snow, cold, dark.
Why did I move back here again?