L. M. Montgomery was very good at describing the unique nature of Canada’s seasons. She wrote that the changed trees of November had an “uncanny witchery” about them, and we must agree. We’ve watched the colours shift from our big picture window on Richmond Row. The last few days have been warm and “uncanny” unto themselves, and it’s been a joy to wave hello to our neighbours as we make our last desperate attempts to the enjoy the outdoors. Vanessa even fell asleep in the backyard hammock. Despite all of the chaos, it has been a glorious autumn.
But it will all end in tears. The holiday season promises to be stressful and impossible to coordinate. It will be followed by the frozen wasteland of a bitter winter. We bookish weirdos will be trapped indoors, clinging to our paperbacks and hardcovers, curled up under blankets with mugs filled with hard liquor, imagining away the horrors of snow shoveling and phone calls from our in-laws. It is time, book friends, to arm yourselves.
Arm yourself with gifts for your idiotic relatives. Arm yourself with intelligent prose to offset the moronic phone conversation with your cousin Ralph. Arm yourself with these portals to imaginary worlds we call books, and escape with to an alternate dimension were we are all endowed with magical wit and physical fitness. Join us, book friends, as we fight the good fight, to emerge from our hovels some months from now smarter, more well-read, and capable of taking down any loudmouth we might encounter on the patios of the 2021 summer season.
Jason & Vanessa
