As a child, young adult, and now even in the sunset of my 20s – I love love LOVE Lucy Maude Montgomery’s timeless classic, Anne of Green Gables and all its sequels.

I remember reading with fascination and awe as Anne walked the ridgepole of Moody Spurgin’s tin roof in response to a dare; I remember crying before my ballet class as I read of Matthew’s death; and then admiring her as she stood up for herself and clung to the preciousness of her education and pride. These daydreams of literary adventures were only heightened when the CBC brought the character to life in the form of Megan Follows, Colleen Dewhurst and of course – Jonathan Crombie (be still my heart). I currently own the collector’s edition, boxed set. Yes – I am that girl.

Growing up as a redhead (though with a hue dark enough to escape the notorious taunt of ‘carrots’) with an adventurous spirit and a tireless mind, I found a true ‘kindred spirit’ in the character of Anne Shirley. She taught me that it was OK to be a smart girl, it was OK to enjoy school, its was OK to be a little bit different, it was OK to have red hair. While spending one’s childhood on a Midwestern farm might not offer the allure or the beauty of Prince Edward Island, it was certainly a fertile playground for the imagination. And, not unlike Miss Shirley, I found myself daydreaming, reading and pretending mostly in the woods, fields or near the creak running through our property. 

 'Happy Birthday’ to my favorite scarlet headed heroine!

Frankly, I do believe that I wouldn’t be the person I am without your inspiration to fuel my childhood fantasies.

Some of my favorite Anne wisdom:

“You'd find it easier to be bad than good if you had red hair,” said Anne reproachfully. “People who haven't red hair don't know what trouble is.”

“Tomorrow is fresh, with no mistakes in it”

Anne always remembered the silvery, peaceful beauty and fragrant calm of that night. It was the last night before sorrow touched her life; and no life is ever quite the same again when once that cold, sanctifying touch has been laid upon it. ~ Lucy Maud Montgomery

P.E.I. is Getting Ready to Welcome Pilgrims Looking to Trace the Roots of Canada's 100-year-old Child

January 26, 2008

Kelly Toughill

CHARLOTTETOWN–My expectations were not high. A summer-stock musical geared to 9-year-olds and their grandmothers?

Yet, by the final scene of Anne of Green Gables – The Musical, I was blubbering along with the rest of the crowd. How do they do this? What kind of magic is spun around the red-headed lass in the straw hat and pinafore that can reach even a cynic like me?

That magic may explain why Canada's iconic orphan continues to draw tens of thousands of visitors to this island every summer. The Anne phenomenon is no fad.

The story by Lucy Maud Montgomery turns 100 years old this year and the island is bracing for an influx of pilgrims to the land of Anne. Sure, some come to P.E.I. for the fantastic golf (the island has 26 courses) and others come to fly kites on the magnificent beaches (the island has 500 kilometres of shoreline). But this story is for those who want a 24-hour, all-Anne vacation, those who want to eat, sleep and dream Anne from Avonlea.

Herewith, a guide to the ultimate Anne of Green Gables vacation:

Dive right in and begin your Anne immersion at the foot of Confederation Bridge. When the bridge was built, canny P.E.I. planners put a shopping mall in the path of every visitor. You can drive around Gateway Village, but why bother? Here you may begin to understand how completely Anne pervades the culture and economy of Prince Edward Island.

Gateway Village has 20 stores. Some are devoted exclusively to Anne of Green Gables merchandise; all carry something Anne-related. There are dolls (large, small, rag, porcelain, wooden), dishes, soap, candy, chocolates, pyjamas, lampshades, sheets, dollhouses, furniture, hats, braids, key chains, figurines, pencils, pens, stationery, T-shirts, ice cream, sweat pants, infant sleepers and, of course, raspberry cordial. Ninety companies are licensed to create Anne merchandise; the breadth of items is vast, and growing every year.

The true Anne aficionado will head straight to Cavendish, the kitschy little town that is at the heart of the Anne legend. P.E.I. is a quiet place of green fields, blue sky and contemplation, but Cavendish is not like that. It is a little bit brash, a little bit odd and a little bit loud, a town of minigolf, amusement parks and Eastern Canada's only Ripley's Believe It or Not! museum. It is also the site of Green Gables, Avonlea Village and the farm where Montgomery wrote the famous novel that launched her career.

Green Gables is an old farmhouse, now part of Prince Edward Island National Park, where Montgomery was raised by her grandparents. It was the inspiration for Anne's fictional home. The house is open to visitors, but it is the land around it that brings the book to life. Anne was an outdoor girl. Here visitors can share her love of P.E.I. nature by strolling down the cow path Montgomery transformed into "Lover's Lane" and across fields and forests that have changed little since the book was written. The house is a short walk through the park from the ocean and a beautiful beach. The beach isn't featured in the book but go anyway. It's stunning.

Avonlea Village is a small recreation of Anne's village. Visiting children (and adults) may dress in costume, make butter, listen to music and watch animators re-create scenes from the classic novel series.

Look for a new museum this summer at Avonlea that documents the Anne phenomenon, including some of the quirkier takes on the Anne myth, such as posters from the play Anne-ken-stein and a famous T-shirt that shocked island sensibilities by depicting Anne headed to the beach topless.

The Lucy Maud Montgomery Cavendish Homestead is where Montgomery was raised by her grandparents and where she wrote Anne of Green Gables, the first of her 20 novels. Today, it is occupied by her descendants, who open it to visitors from May through October.

There are dozens of places to stay in Cavendish; most are small, seasonal family affairs. P.E.I.'s excellent tourism website (gentleisland.com) lists 10 hotels in Cavendish, 10 bed-and-breakfast inns and 34 cottage operations.

Cottages are the preferred vacation option here, particularly for families that want a little extra space and the chance to cook their own meals. Cottage options in Cavendish range from $75 to $300 a day and $500 to $2,000 a week.

You can camp in the national park, but reservations are precious. Call today (877-737-3783) if you want to try to snag a campsite overlooking the ocean this summer.

Cavendish may be the heart of Anne land, but bits and pieces of the myth and lore are scattered across the island. Park Corner is second only to Cavendish as the site of all-things-Anne. There are two shrines to her work in town: the Anne of Green Gables Museum and the Lucy Maud Montgomery Museum, both focused on buildings where the author once lived. In one, you can even arrange a wedding in the same parlour where Montgomery herself was married.

If you are tracing the life path of the author, you should also stop at the restored parsonage in Bideford, where Montgomery once lived, and at the school in Lower Bedeque where she once taught. Her grave is in Cavendish.

One of the reasons that Anne-themed vacations work so well is that the tone of the Anne books is reflected in the culture and pace of island life. P.E.I. recently rebranded itself the "gentle island." Unlike many such exercises, this one works. P.E.I. really is a gentle island, a place of country roads, tidy farms and potato fields. This is a place where you can stumble on a strawberry social or a lobster supper in a white clapboard church hall. Don't worry, you are welcome to join in.

Even though Anne was a village sort of a girl, the island's biggest towns also get in on the Anne act.

Three years ago, a second musical about Anne was launched in Summerside, P.E.I.'s second-largest town. Anne and Gilbert: The Island Love Story extends the Anne tale, covering material in Montgomery's later books that detail Anne's life and loves as a young adult. This season's schedule has not been announced, but it is expected to open again in Summerside this summer.

Charlottetown is the capital of P.E.I., less than an hour's drive from Cavendish. It is a lovely little city of leafy neighbourhoods and parks that is worth at least one overnight, particularly if you are headed to the theatre. The range of accommodation is large, spanning big hotels such as the Delta Prince Edward to quaint places such as the Inns on Great George, a hotel that threads through several historic properties downtown. My favourite is the Rodd Charlottetown, an old railway hotel now part of a local chain owned by the Rodd family.

Charlottetown has two claims on the Anne myth: It is the site of the L. M. Montgomery Institute and it is home to Anne of Green Gables – The Musical.

The institute was established 15 years ago by the University of Prince Edward Island and is an international centre of research about Montgomery. It is hosting a special conference this June to mark the 100th anniversary of the publication of Montgomery's first novel.

No Anne vacation is complete without a visit to the Confederation Centre for the Arts to see Anne of Green Gables – The Musical. This production has run every summer in Charlottetown since 1965, making it the longest-running play in Canada. Sets, costumes and staging are traditional. The audience usually includes a big contingent of bus tour patrons.

Still, you must go. I dare you not to cry.

For more information about an all-Anne vacation, visit anne2008.com.

(Post written on Wednesday, Jan. 16)

I don’t sleep anymore.

Correction: I don’t sleep without coma inducing prescription drugs.

I remember a time, not so very long ago where I would read before bed and try to keep my eyes open long enough to finish a chapter before I feel asleep naturally for 6, maybe 7 hours of uninterrupted REM cycles.

(Sigh) But no more. My apparent inability to cope with what can only be described as an emotional holocaust (brought to you by your friendly, neighborhood Russian) has rendered me ...well..awake.

But, last night, I was hopeful. My evening began when I noticed some kind of foul odor emanating from my kitchen and thus an investigation was launched in order to discover the source…this investigation soon escalated into a full scale attack. The attack began with a complete overhaul of the contents of my refrigerator (the obvious suspect). When that didn’t seem to help, I began washing every dish I own, pots, pans, nothing was safe. Then mopping of the floor ensued, a reorganization of every cupboard, shelf and storage unit soon followed.

It was quite the scene, kids. Your Scarlett, on the floor, in pink rubber gloves, scrubbing the 3 cm space between my stove and my cabinets like its my job, pausing only to sip on a freshly uncorked Chilean Shiraz/Cabernet blend. Oh! Add to this the fact that I was shouting out answers to Jeopardy questions (into an empty apartment mind you). I’m sure my cats were impressed by my seemingly vast knowledge of Medieval Monarchs, but that’s neither here nor there.

In conclusion, I was unable to identify the source of the odor though it seemed to disintegrate sometime between the floor mopping and the alphabetization of my cookbooks (which, incidentally, have never been opened....). The questionable scent has since been replaced with that of some lemon-fragranced-Clorox-brand-cleaning-mixture. Feeling fully satisfied with my efforts, I planted myself on the couch for the remainder of the evening, alternating channels between the American Idol premier (don’t judge) and political commentary on the yesterday’s primary results.

Back to the sleep.

Having completely worn myself out with my cleaning binge and mellowed after finishing off half the bottle of red, I thought I could easily drift off to the land of Nod sans sleep-aid. Which, I did. I just can't seem to stay there for very long.

I have bad dreams – nightmares, actually. No need to get specific, but I wake up with the most unnerving jolt, a pounding heart, and in a cold sweat. Typically, it takes a good 20 minutes for me to really calm down – as was the case around midnight - utterly screwing my chances of a solid night’s sleep. Too late to take a sleeping pill that lasts 8 hours (when you have to get up at 6), too early to abandon the quest for sleep get up and be productive.  

A tad frustrating to say the least. My wine buzz had worn off and all I could do was lay there, willing the voices in my head to be as silent as the world around me.

That futile effort was abandoned around 2 a.m. at which time I became desperate. I got up and I rummaged through my apartment like a junkie looking for her misplaced stash. The bathroom, the closet, my Clorox-scented kitchen, trying to find Tylenol PM, NyQuill, ANYTHING to help my eyes close. I had to be able to at least FAKE functionality come morning.

Sadly, all I found were non-drowsy cold medications (like those do anyone any good), birth control pills (my daily reminder that I’m NOT having sex) and what looked like stale multi-vitamins I must have bought while on some health kick (useless again).

UGH – clearly my medicine cabinet needs some tending to. Not a narcotic in sight!

The frustration lasted as I dozed on and off through the remaining hours of the early morning.

Frankly, I'm trying to save the Ambien (I only have about a week's worth left) for a rainy day when I NEED to knock myself out. Until then, I'll replenish my stock of NyQuill, and PM meds and pray they can hold me over.

THE PAST

One year ago today, the Russian and I were going on 36 hours of sleep depravation because we had been up the night before talking, laughing, watching football and making love. We met after work for dinner at a romantic Moroccan restaurant where we couldn’t stop smiling, cuddling, kissing and later crying (out of happiness in finding each other). Because we were happy. REALLY happy. It's not something you can find in a bar, on Match.com, or even through you're friendly neighborhood Yenta. It was a 'once in a lifetime' not a 'once in awhile'. And we both knew it. It was a good day. Today we would (should) have celebrated our year anniversary and still felt blessed to have found something so special. I miss it - even through my anger. I miss it.

THE PRESENT

I haven’t been in a Moroccan restaurant since, sad to say, but I did have Ethiopian last week. I’m healthier, in a much better place mentally and emotionally than I was a year ago. But not happier. I AM happy, but in the more sedated/comfortable in my own skin/contented sense....and that's just as good. right?

THE FUTURE

I read my horoscope occasionally. It pops up on my iGoogle homepage daily, however, I rarely take notice. This morning, I did. I’m a Gemini/Cancer Cusp (for more information, please see…) and I usually read both astrological predictions and take the one most applicable. Today, clearly the heavens are telling me something – and on this particular day they knew I needed them to get it absolutely right.

Gemini

Career and business continue to play a powerful role in your life right now, as new ideas, new people, and considerations as mundane as modern equipment continue to open up new doors for you, dear Gemini. In addition, romantic involvements could increase in intensity. If you are currently committed, expect to get closer to your partner. If involved but not committed, a proposal could be on the horizon. If not involved, don't be surprised if you meet someone new and exciting. 

Cancer

Sudden changes in your romantic situation could surprise you today, dear Cancer. If you are currently committed, expect some surprising propositions from your partner. If you are involved but not committed, a marriage proposal could finally come your way. If you are not currently involved, you could meet someone new and exciting under unusual circumstances. Make sure you look your best today - even if you're only running down to the supermarket! 

There’s something vaguely depressing about the remnants of the holidays manifested in the forms of weathered wreaths, tattered bows, wilting poinsettias, blue spruce, scotch pine and all other manner of evergreens discarded for pedestrians to hurdle during their morning commute.

It is the holiday hangover, not painful necessarily. But present nonetheless.

It has a slightly empty feeling, somewhat ironic given that have been given a brand new year, 12 months filled with possibility and life. But it is lacking a sense of (for lack of a better word)….anticipation and its immediate gratification. No holiday travel to dread, days off work pending, witty retorts to inappropriate questions (posed by your relatives) to prepare, holiday parties to smile through or mistletoe to bate us. And while this comes to many of us as a sigh, of relief (myself included), I’m almost left thinking…now what?

Whether the holidays brought for you the excitement at the 24-hour Christmas Story marathon on TBS, the expectation on Christmas morning for those of you that still believe in Santa (I was personally hoping to find Fred Clause (Vince Vaughn) under my tree), or feelings of depression and loneliness the likes of which no antidepressant can even begin quell – they were still…powerful, (mostly) seasonal emotions that have since subsided as you nursed your champaign hangover yesterday morning and realized…tomorrow is going to be ‘normal’. A revelation either accompanied by a prayer of thanksgiving, or a groan as you realize you slept in your absolutely stunning floor-length ball gown (or at least it WAS stunning before you slept in it) and begin cataloguing the laundry list of tasks pushed off until ‘the new year’. Well, it’s here baby. Better get crackin’.

I think it’s this sudden stop, this ‘day before yesterday’ unnerving pinch back to reality that’s so jarring. We have almost 6 weeks, roughly 42 days to experience these complicated, joyous, dreading, bearing, anticipated, satisfied, happy, relieving, lonely, crazy, drunken emotions and barely the 24 hours between midnight, January 1 and the time your alarm clock rings on January 3 to recover!?

Hardly seems fair that we now have to look forward to what is chronologically akin to a northern Ohio landscape – a flat, dry and seemingly endless January until the excitement, anticipation, fear and dread of the next holiday season comes knocking around.

A veritable roller coaster of emotions…yet we can’t seem to get off the ride.

Happy 2008 (and I do mean happy),