Her queer little ways

Every now and then your childhood sneaks up and reminds you where you came from. In the midst of the mundane task of retrieving the mail yesterday, between the bills, bank statements and other banal reminders of adulthood was a time capsule. My “Anne of Green Gables” DVD set finally arrived, a belated Christmas gift from my mother. I’d forgotten they were coming, a function of falling too quickly back into the frazzled schedule of work and grown-up demands. But there they were, waiting patiently for me to remember. And remember I did.

I own all the books, of course. They sit neatly in a place of honor on my bookshelf, worn from time and hours of reading into the darkness of the night. L.M. Montgomery was my J.K. Rowling. I have almost everything ever bound and stamped with her name – Anne, Emily, Pat, Rilla and an endless assortment of short anthologies of occasionally questionable quality. But those I read on my own. I watched the series on TV with my family. I became obsessed with visiting Prince Edward Island (which I eventually convinced them to do one summer vacation) while watching the series on TV with my family. . I fell in love with Megan Follows (albeit unbeknownst to them, and me at the time) while watching the series on TV with my family.

This series, the one I now held in my hand. I’m not sure what took me so long to buy them. OK, they’re a tad pricey and I’m a tad cheap. Also the complete set didn’t come out until 2008. Someone in a drawer somewhere in my parents’ house gathering dust I have the complete series on VHS, recorded lovely from repeats on PBS. (OK, not “The Continuing Story” because – come on – those weren’t even based on the books). I had to fight the urge to put them on immediately and watch them back-to-back-to-back for an unending loop of spectacular sunsets along red sand beaches. But I didn’t. Work, bills, adulthood stood in the way.

But don’t worry, I will find the time. I must. Anne with an e was my hero growing up, with her smarts and spunk. She was an orphan who survived on the sheer force of her imagination, a dreamer, a thinker, a romantic, a kindred spirit. She was stubborn and prone to getting into scrapes. She was the best bosom friend a little girl could have – for Diana Barry and the rest of us. I look forward to spending time with her again soon. We have so much to catch up on after all these years.