The girls and I started reading “Anne of Green Gables” a few months ago. The reasons we stopped midway through it are varied and complex, but we’ve picked it back up by audio book this week. We also watched the PBS version, which is one of my all time favorite films. The girls liked the book, though the vocabulary is a bit on the higher end (even for me!). They LOVED the movie (except the part where Diana accidentally gets drunk and throws up – my eldest can’t handle anyone throwing up, so she leaves the room for that entire scene).
Anyway, today as we were listening to the audio CD in the car, a strange realization about myself crept into my consciousness:
I’ve become much more Marilla than Anne.
I used to SO relate to Anne. Her poetry, her dramatic flair, her love of nature and romance. But with the passing of the years, I’ve become practical, efficient, and impatient with things I perceive to be a waste of time. Wow. Am I really becoming a Marilla? Am I on the road to rigidity, doomed to become a squelcher of “nonsense”? I value creativity so highly – yet I find myself increasingly putting more energy into efficiency than into imagination.
Hmm…definitely something to put a magnifying glass to.
Then again, this quote from Anne gave me a bit of solace:
“There’s such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that is why I’m such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne it would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn’t be half so interesting.”
So maybe I’m not doomed to become Marilla. Perhaps she’s just one of the many “Annes” in me who just happens to be in season at present.
Still, I vow to make more room in my day for imaginative nonsense. And to bring the kids along with me. I’m sure it would do us all some good.