Posts Tagged ‘L. M. Montgomery’


I like to call this “Sunset over the Bus Station, or, Failure of Nomenclature Imagination”  (my photo)

It’s the 1st of October! How did that happen? Suddenly it’s dark even earlier than I was expecting pre-clocks changing, but on the plus side, there are gorgeous sunsets, like the one in my photo above, to admire on the way home. (more…)


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Yesterday, it had been 400 years since Shakespeare died. Today, it has been 74 years ago since Lucy Maud Montgomery died. I can’t believe that she died so comparatively recently! I’ve spoken about her a lot on this blog, and last year made a lifelong dream come true by visiting Green Gables and L. M. Montgomery’s own world on Prince Edward Island in Canada.  I really haven’t written as much about that as I ought to have done, but in this post I mention said visit to Green Gables.  I also grin as calmly as possible, so as not to scare the helpful friendly tourist taking my picture (see below). It really was a wonderful day. (more…)

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….. ok, not really, but I wonder how that would go. A story for another time!

Today is doubly important to me, it being the feast of Scotland’s national saint, St Andrew, and the birthday of L. M. Montgomery, author of the Anne Shirley and Emily Byrd Starr series of books.  (more…)

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Trinity College, Downtown Toronto (St George) campus, Toronto University.  My photo, 19 September 2014.

Trinity College, Downtown Toronto (St George) campus, Toronto University. My photo, 19 September 2014.

Canada plays quite a part in this blog; Canada is one of the reasons for this blog’s very existence! So it is with great delight that I realised today that it is five months until my next visit. My first trip was entirely for the purpose of library research and presenting a paper at the Ninth International Conference of the Book, with the exception of a full day at Niagara Falls, but I knew that I wanted to return to see more of Toronto, and of the whole country. (more…)

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Alas, dear readers, I had to leave Paris after a delightful week of boats up and down the Seine, stunning gardens, sumptuous buildings and beaucoup de soleil. Life must continue, and there is much to be done, within and outwith blogging.

In the meantime, please enjoy this account of a friend’s pilgrimage to the Land of L. M. Montgomery. Once I get back to full strength, I would like to see more of the world and a return to Canada, to see it in more detail and in a more relaxed fashion is very near the top of the list. Anabel may well have convinced me to start on Prince Edward Island.

The Glasgow Gallivanter

I couldn’t come to Nova Scotia and not detour onto Prince Edward Island, Canada’s smallest province and the location for LM Montgomery’s books. I read Anne of Green Gables and all the sequels as a child and have reread the first book several times since, most recently a few years ago when a prequel (Before Green Gables by Budge Wilson) came out. I was pleasantly surprised at how close to the spirit of Anne that book was, and had to read the original again to check if Wilson had got her facts right. She had. It all dovetailed perfectly, and the story ended with Anne sitting on a station platform waiting to be collected – just where the “real” story begins.

Lucy Maud Montgomery (Maud) was born on PEI, and moved to live with her grandparents in Cavendish (Avonlea in the books) before she was 2. Her mother had…

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I realise that I should be considering Thing Four for CPD23, and I promise that I am, but Thing Three is still very much on my mind.  I have been thinking a lot about how I and others use my real name, and have used it, throughout my life.  I’ve always liked my name; it’s very much like that of L. M. Montgomery’s Little Elizabeth (in Anne of Windy Poplars), as I can change it according to my mood and situation.  Kathleen, Katie, Kate, Katya, Katherine, Kath. I have become accustomed to answering to more or less any variation on my name (officially, “Kathleen”) as people don’t always hear it properly or, if I am abroad, find it difficult to pronounce.  It is one of the drawbacks of having a relatively quiet voice, and it makes having clear, memorable business and calling cards considerably more important . And now, in public and in person, not merely online, I will answer to the Victorian Librarian.

Of course, when I was seven, I would only answer to Wonder Woman (so my godmother tells me), and in my first job post-University, I was nicknamed Buffy – I blame the kick-boxing classes – when I’d rather have been Willow, or a Watcher, a redhead and/or a genius book geek and librarian.  I still have all these characters as my role models; geekery is not just for Christmas.  I am also occasionally called Lucy – it was on the list of possible names before I was born, and certain friends (or “friends”, now that I think about it) maintain that it was intended to be short for Lucifer. While I would like to believe that this is because I am as bright as a morning star (after coffee, anyway), I suspect that diabolical comparisons are in fact being made at my expense.

The only real problem that I have ever had with my name is the Irish song I’ll take you home again, Kathleen, as was sung to me by our primary school janitor and various other wannabe comedians (several now coincidentally and curiously missing). For a few years, it seemed to be an accepted salutation in lieu of “hello”, much to my annoyance. Fortunately, the Tindersticks came to my rescue with their beautiful song which bears my name: Kathleen.

Alors … CPD23-ers, as a Thing Three (b), and everybody else, as a general question, what part does  your given name play in your identity, and what other names do you use, and why? Quick! To the comments!

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When I booked my hotel in Ottawa, it was agreed that because I was arriving after 9pm, an envelope would be left in the “mailbox” (get me and my seamless use of local parlance; I can now also describe locations as, for example, “near the corner of Jarvis and Sherborne”) with my key. Alas, there was no such envelope. I searched the house’s entire porch with such thoroughness that I feared the neighbours would call the police, so made a few final attempts to ring the bell, beat down the door, and so forth, before deciding what to do next. All to no avail. (more…)

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