The sweetest thing...

The sweetest thing my husband has ever done for me (and the list of lovely, thoughtful things he does is absurdly extensive), was read Anne of the Island, a childhood favourite, to me when I was in my last, most painful weeks of pregnancy.

He'd be annoyed to know. He goes to greater lengths than this to keep my rather difficult self happy--so why is this simple deed tops?

Because nothing--and i mean NOTHING--has made me laugh so much!

When you are in real physical pain, seeing a thoroughly macho type, longtime X Men & Mixed martial arts fan, hunched over with a quizzical expression, puzzling through Anne and her petty problems...it's priceless. And the funny mockery along the way. Because of course he couldn't restrain himself.

' "I've a blue silk to make up yet, but it's a little heavy for summer
wear. I think I'll leave it until the fall. I'm going to teach in White
Sands, you know. How do you like my hat? That one you had on in church
yesterday was real dinky." '

"Oh the idyllic whimpers of these limpid shores.
 How quaintly doth they speak to the seraph within my soul."

Seriously. Any of you with masculine types around, be it a robust outdoorsy uncle with grotty hands from mountain-biking all day...here's a top tip. To be used whenever you are "feeling blue--just a pale, pensive azure."

Find the most florid-prosed, romantically and impractically-minded writer...and MAKE HIM READ THEIR STUFF. Just a chapter.

Here is an excerpt at random, from the gag-inducing "Rose In Bloom" by that dastardly Louisa May Alcott (SHE DISSED DICKENS...) It would do nicely. :

"I know my chestnut burr too well to mind his prickles. But others do
not, so I will take him in hand and make him a credit to his family,"
answered Rose readily.

"Take Archie for your model he's one of a thousand, and the girl who
gets him gets a prize, I do assure you," added Uncle Mac, who found
matchmaking to his taste and thought that closing remark a deep one.

"Oh, me, how tired I am!" cried Rose, dropping into a chair as the last
carriage rolled away somewhere between one and two.

"What is your opinion now, Miss Campbell?" asked the doctor, addressing
her for the first time by the name which had been uttered so often that
night.

"My opinion is that Miss Campbell is likely to have a gay life if she
goes on as she has begun, and that she finds it very delightful so far,"
answered the girl, with lips still smiling from their first taste of
what the world calls pleasure.

Hm. Anne would still be better, honestly.

With her "eyries" "slender iris figure" and "forlorn goblin nooks festooned with the lingering echoes of faraway dreams." I strung that last set of words together at random, but I'm sure it exists somewhere in the book.

*Note: J'adore LM Montgomery and hold nothing against her, save that she caused an intense, unfulfilled craving for puffed sleeves all throughout my 90's childhood*