In today's post I am stealing from myself, if that is possible.
A couple of years ago I wrote a column about my affection for garden gnomes. It appeared in a special section printed by the newspaper for which I work.
Unfortunately the section, which had come out once a month, then twice a month for awhile, is no longer published.
I have replaced the fun I had writing that column with blogging.
The column was all about my growing collection of gnomes. I remember writing phrases like "there's no place like gnome" and "gnomes are us." Sounds silly but it worked.
I wish I could find a copy of it now. Note to self: go through plastic boxes full of old clippings.
Anyway, here's the group shot I took today.
The collection includes three ceramic gnomes that I bought at an antique shop next to our now closed newspaper office, several resin ones from stores I frequent, one that was a gift from my mother that prompted the collection in the first place and another that is a souvenir from a bookstore in London.
Now doesn't that make me sound worldly? The one from London is the smallest of the bunch. He came with a tiny book about, well, gnomes.
I even sent away for the Travelocity Roaming Gnome. I think he's adorable and just had to have him.
The accident-prone roamer occupies a special spot in our dining room. I may have missed a couple that are hanging out elsewhere.
I will always love and be intrigued by these little guys, gnome matter what.
