Does anyone else have comfort reading? Books that you go back to when they are sick or sad or exhausted because you have to read something to get your mind off the aforementioned sickness or sadness or exhaustion but you can’t quite manage to concentrate on anything complicated? Well my anxiety is turned all the way up right now and I’ve been reading Anne of Green Gables again.

As much as I wish I was more like Anne my waistline is expanding much like Diana’s who regretted only having three raspberry tarts:

“The little girls of Avonlea school always pooled their lunches, and to eat three raspberry tarts all alone or even to share them only with one’s best chum would have forever and ever branded as “awful mean” the little girl who did it. And yet, when the tarts were divided among ten girl you just got enough to tantalize you.”

And to make up for that disappointment I made a whole batch and ate three to myself.