Flowering Trees and Sparkling Seas: The Power of Prince Edward Island

You know how you read a book and it turns out to be bad?  And then you read another book, and that one's bad too?  And they're both so bad that you want to forget about them and most certainly not blog about the experience?  Well, that's what happened to me last week.  So I turned to a tome that could never let me down: The Landscapes of Anne of Green Gables.

In this pictorial treasury, creative writing professor Catherine Reid highlights the life and times of Anne of Green Gables author L. M. Montgomery.  Which was a delight and a comfort to me because Anne of Green Gables is my favorite book.  Reid weaves passages from Montgomery's -- scratch that, Maud's -- books and journals with photographs of her beloved Prince Edward Island in a way that makes you feel like you're there.  Unmatched in its unkempt beauty, this smallest of the Canadian provinces beats at the heart of Maud's classic novel.  Anyone who's read and been changed by Anne of Green Gables knows that it's Anne's connection to the natural world that makes her story so special.  For this eleven-year-old orphan, every earthly thing brims with whimsy.  Flowers are friends, forests are haunted, and brooks always mind their manners.  Humans have failed Anne for so long that she turns to nature for strength and solace.  And the same was true for her creator.

Although not an orphan, Maud was raised by her grandparents and suffered from a series of hardships, including depression.  Writing about rainbowed skies, ice crystal-cast woods, and rioting gardens -- and a girl who wouldn't let life beat her -- transported her to a more welcoming world.  Even the title of her most famous book showcases the color of nature, rebirth, and second chances.

The other night, I was crafting and re-watching You've Got Mail, which is a movie I thought I didn't like (random, I know, but stay with me), when I was struck by the scene where Meg Ryan's Kathleen Kelly is closing her bookshop for good.  One customer tells her that Kathleen's mother, who owned the shop before her, sold her a copy of Anne of Green Gables and advised her to read it with a box of tissues.  Then the woman starts sobbing, and Kathleen produces some Kleenex.  By that point, the movie was already growing on me (due in no small part to Kathleen's confession that daisies are the friendliest flower), but that cinched it.  Because anyone who understands Anne -- from Kathleen Kelly to Nora Ephron to that crying customer -- can't be all that bad.

And Reid, to use Maud’s own parlance, tops this list as a true kindred spirit.  Her love and reverence for Maud and Anne radiate from every page of her heartfelt tribute. 

In Anne of Green Gables, Anne famously says, "I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers."  And although, as you know, I'm no fan of fall, I appreciate the sentiment.  

Because I'm so glad to live in world where there's Anne and Maud and Prince Edward Island.    

Snow Falling on South Jersey: Entertainment Blitz Blizzard

Fantastic Flora and Fauna Necklace

Top: Wet Seal

Skirt (a dress!): Macy's

Shoes: Christian Siriano for Payless

Bag: Nine West, Marshalls

Belt: Marshalls

It's been snowing a lot in my neck of the woods.  Which I hate.  Because snow is cold and dangerous and prevents me from wearing my very best outfits.  Still, if you don't have to be out in it, it does have its charms -- e.g. curling up with a good book, Pinterest page, or premium cable binge-a-thon.  So, I took full advantage, traveling to sunny California to catch up on Silicon Valley.  Also, I made this very tropical Fantastic Flora and Fauna Necklace.  You know.  To remind me that Memorial Day is slumbering somewhere beneath the permafrost.

So, "Silicon Valley."  This is a show that I shouldn't even like, but love.  As an artsy-craftsy girly girl who thinks "dress" when she hears the word "code," it seems unlikely that I'd be interested in the trials and tribulations of a boy's club of wisecracking technies.  Then again, "Silicon Valley" is really about a bunch of underdogs doing their thing, which is something I'm always on board with.  Also, I really dig wisecracks.  

I can't help but root for Richard (Thomas Middleditch).  As the head of the pack, he's a beta alpha dog if ever there was one, the ultimate David to Corporate America's Goliath.  He's brilliant and painfully awkward and never stops trying to get his brilliance out there.  He's like an artist that no one understands but who knows he's got something special.  Of course, there's a part of me that sometimes thinks, wait a minute, though, he's not an artist.  He's an engineer promoting a product that's supposed to make people's lives easier.  But most people aren't as smart as he is.  So why doesn't he just add the Word-Help-Paperclip-clone Pipey (yes, as in Pied) thing to the software to walk people through it?  Sorry, Richie, but remember, this is the technically-challenged part of me ranting.  The trailblazing creator part still thinks you're badass.  Anyway, you do adopt Pipey.  And win over your biggest regular person user critic, Bernice.  So, well done.  But all of that, like everything else in this show, becomes moot because of some crazy plot shift that I no longer remember.  It's this chaos -- and Pied Piper's deus ex machina ability to rise above it -- that makes Silicon Valley such a great dramedy.

That said, if Richard has the goods, then Big Head (Josh Brener) has the life I'd most want.  Because no matter what troubles assail him (and there are many), his response is always, "whatevs."  In this way, he is high-strung Richard's foil.  He never lets his circumstances cloud his outlook, or a quest for power hamper his happiness.  When he discovers that he's a guest lecturer instead of a grad student at Stanford, he copes by showing vaguely computer sciencey movies, starting with The Social Network and ending with the sophisticated cyber stylings of You've Got Mail.  He's content to be the easygoing court jester, guzzling his ever-present Big Gulp the way most Pacific Northwesterners suck down Starbucks.

So, maybe he's on to something.  Because anyone who can make a sno-cone-like drink from snow can't be all that bad.