The Emily trilogy

Have any of you read the Emily books?

I have. And not just once–probably a dozen times through, starting at approximately age 9, and continuing to this very moment. At this exact minute, I have the last book (“Emily’s Quest”) on my desk, bookmarked with a receipt from Starbucks, with only about 100 pages left before I sadly have to close the doors on this magical world. Authored by L.M. Montgomery (most beloved for “Anne of Green Gables”), this trilogy is one of my lifelong companions. Know what I mean? Some books just walk through life with you.

Yes, they are a little sentimental. Maybe a lot. If you didn’t grow up with this writing, you might find it a little too saccarine. Even I wondered if I had grown out of them for the first dozen pages . . . and then quickly adapted again to the style. But its faults aside, if you have that girlishly romantic streak in you, you might just love them as much as I do, and be swept up in the torrent of the story. However much the plot may end up in satisfying places, there is also real heartbreak strewn throughout the story. Twists that make my heart clench even now, especially as I know the moments in question are approaching.

Emily, a native of Canada born some time in the early 20th century (or late 19th?), is orphaned at age 11, and taken to live with her relatives the Murrays, a clan of people known for their pride, traditions, and general hoity-toitiness. Tradition has it that in the days of Noah, there was a special ark just for the Murrays.

Emily moves to a a farm called New Moon to live with her two spinster aunts and “simple” cousin Jimmy. New Moon is a place of tradition and beauty, a place where only candles are burned–gas lamps being too modern–, where the parlor is meant for company, and where Emily must wear buttoned boots instead of running barefoot. Emily, with (of course) pale skin, thick black hair and violet-grey eyes, is a dreamy and imaginative girl who is always caught up in one flight of fancy or another. She’s an aspiring poetess, a loyal friend, and, having one foot in fairyland, not always as well-mannered and proper as her stiff-spined family might desire. The trilogy begins when she’s 11 and ends when she’s 24, covering all those important years of growth, maturity, awakening, and the beginnings of romantic love. Through narration (with just enough omnipresence of the author) and Emily’s journal entries, we watch Emily evolve and grow from a girl to a woman, pursuing her unconventional dream of making a living for herself through her pen, gaining her independence, and (of couse) finding love.

While L.M. Montgomery’s trademarks are all over the books (an orphan, a stiff and proper older woman whose love this orphan earns over time, a woman who aspires to support herself and be independent, etc.), Emily is a very different character than Anne of Green Gables, and most definitely has her own voice. In another life, she and I are fast friends, and never doubt it.

Your library is bound to have these books, so look them up and check them out! And then you will sink into this lovely world where the sea is moaning, the fires are rustling, the cats are prowling, and the wind is moving in the evergreens.

Where Santa’s letters actually go

In the village of North Pole, Alaska, lives a man named Santa Claus.

Or so the story goes.

Fun fact–the town of North Pole is actually South of Fairbanks, where Heidi lives. So she can claim with utmost authority “I live North of North Pole.” Of course, North of the North Pole is a different matter.

As I’ve mentioned before, the town hosts a very large Christmas store, where you can purchase Alaska paraphenalia, crêches, ornaments, Christmas trees . . .

. . . and even visit with the fenced-in reindeer out back. Hello Prancer. Or is it Dancer? Sorry. . . you all look the same to me.

While we were there in September, we decided to get an ornament. There were so many choices that it was a difficult task.

The felt sweater or the little wooden sled? The snowflake or the moose?

Thankfully, little James had a clear opinion.

Posted on some of the walls and columns of the store . . . letters to Santa!

I guess they come somewhere after all. I heard that parents can pay “Santa” to actually answer these letters. I wonder what Santa’s going rate is these days. Anyway, I wanted to put up a couple of these letters as we enter the Christmas season for your enjoyment and amusement.

Can I please

have three Junie B. Jones. And some Junie B. books. One stupid smelly bus, the christmas one, and a monster under her bed plus some beads. Thanks. Love,

Abagaile.

Pleas
Pleas
Pleas
Pleas
Pleas
Get Me
a Castle
Pleas
Dan
Marinoe
Jersy

Dear Santa, am I beaing good for Christmas? I hope I am. Do you have little Elves? How are you doing? How old are you? Here’s a Chistmas list

E-Kare
Fisher Price sweet streets
play CD
Lizzemicd
a pitcher of you and Mrs. Clas and elves
from Erin kinney

Dear, Santa

I have been a little naghty This year I am sorry. If I end up getting any thing this year I would love to have a puppy, I would help out more at the house. Santa I would not ask for anything els for the rest of the year.

Love,

Mackenzie

It will be a while before this little guy writes his first letter to the Big Fat Bearded Man.

Lookin’ good in that hat there, James.

Do I have to keep wearing this?

So–did you guys ever write letters to Santa? And did you believe in him? And do your kids write letters to Santa? And how much is Santa charging these days for a response?