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oh my gnome.
6 Mar
I was running errands in Willmar and stumbled upon a section of gnomes. A mini gnome village. A community of gnomes, living peacefully together on four metal shelves in between the garden stepping stones and discount valentine decorations. Gnomes holding shovels, thermometers, and gnomes riding turtles.
I thought this one was pretty cute. Pretty sure he’s related to the gnome that’s on my lunchbox.
And this guy — his door says “There’s no place like gnome.” I think I’ve heard that before …
gnew gnome.
6 Dec
When I returned from my time at home for Thanksgiving, there was a package waiting … a package with a GNEW GNOME! Laura from Stillwater sent this little guy to live with me with my other gnome friends. This friendly gnome also came with a book – The Garden Gnome Book: An Illustrated History – which told me I should give him a good German or Scandinavian name. I will call him Borg.
The really cool thing about Borg is that he likes to travel. He came with his own patch of grass and interchangeable backgrounds for his adventures far and wide. Borg enjoys time in France, as well as the country cottage outside of the city.
From the book, an introduction to gnomes: “In European folklore, gnomes are believed to be household guardians or home spirits for both good and ill. They are friendly toward humans but also possess a sly charm and whimsy and are fond of practical jokes. Tradition holds that gnomes protect our precious belongings but are also notorious pranksters. If mistreated, they are reputed to torment humans with minor, but irritating, mischief like their distant cousins, the gremlins.”
So far, Borg has caused no mischief but I also treat him well, changing his background and arranging the flowers on his grass in different arrangements. I hope he remains docile and a good companion. Hopefully he doesn’t invade my dresser drawers and invite chaos into the black and navy pairs of socks.
One of the best things about Borg – he’s purse size. I expect we will have many adventures together, beginning with a trip to the Cities next weekend, where we will wine and dine at The Happy Gnome, a fancy-smansy restaurant only my friend James would find. I think Borg will like it there. He might have a beer.
The baker’s wife.
14 Nov
I was visiting members at the care center last week and am happy to report that I met the baker’s wife. Millie, to be 93 next month, was married to the baker, who passed away many years ago, and together they owned the local bakery until ’85. Quite the stories … waking up in the wee hours to get the bread and goodies in the oven and ready for sale to eager customers. As a side note, I have decided I will visit Millie whenever I need a self confidence boost – she complimented me constantly, whether my shoes or my necklace or personality. Quite the lady she is.
Gladys.
10 NovDo you remember Gladys, the missing gnome? Poor thing. Hooligan teenagers stealing all but her feet and throwing her in the river. Or maybe she met her demise by one of those darn velociraptors, the ever-present threat they are.
I am more shook up than ever about her disappearance now because of the information I acquired today. I was speaking with Karen, our office manager extraordinaire at church, and was showing her a picture of my completed quilt on my blog. As I scrolled past a picture of the gnomes, she laughed, as Dawson people do at my tame obsession with the gnome folk and culture. I mentioned the feet of Gladys that remain and then she said, all serious like, “Well, you know who that is, right?”
… pause …
My hands flew to my chest as I gasped. No. NO. I have met Gladys – the real Gladys – the one for whom the gnome was dedicated and created! Gladys is a lovely woman who lives in the assisted living facility in town. A sweet woman with vests and collared shirts who attends worship and is always so kind to chat. An elderly woman who spent years writing a column in the weekly Dawson Sentinal paper and serving the community. A woman who doesn’t deserve for her gnome-clone to be stolen and disrespected.
To the teenagers or velociraptors who are responsible –
I’m disgusted.
gnome home.
22 OctI live in gnomeland. I’m a neighbor to gnome park. I consider myself on a first name basis with many gnome people in the area. I am a friend to the gnomes and here in Dawson, I seem to be in the minority.
No one here seems to care for or about the gnomes. I mention the gnomes to others, often with a giggle because the gnomes are like that – they make me giggle, but I receive stares and questions in response. People who have grown up with the gnomes think they are just a fixture in their community, much like the toilet the Smith’s use in their front yard as a planter for flowers. It’s old hat. Nothing new. And so no one cares when Gladys goes missing. The flyers I put up in town regarding her whereabouts go unanswered. No one is concerned.
To prevent the ignoring and possible threat to gnome lives, I have taken some smaller gnomes under my roof, to protect and care for them. I consider my apartment to be a safe gnome home. Currently, two gnomes make their residence in apartment #206 with me. I’d like to introduce them to you.
This husky gnome on the left came to seek refuge all the way from Seattle, Washington. My friend, Kari, knew of my passion for the gnome people and brought this little guy my way. He looks a bit like he might play the role of Santa Gnome to the gnome children come Christmas time. I do fear that he came nameless and I am currently seeking the perfect name to fit him. I welcome suggestions.
Then there is this guy. He’s an original swinger who
traveled to me from Stillwater, MN. The Gieseke family, bless their hearts, is always on the lookout for the gnome folk and believed that this guy could be at home with me. Ideally, he enjoys swinging in the summer breeze but as the winter approaches, he will remain inside and still. Ironically, he needs a name too! Ideas?
a tour of area statuary
12 Oct
Last Friday, I welcomed three friends from seminary to bunk and play with me for the weekend. James drove, Justin took pictures, and Kate slept on the three hour journey from St.Paul to Dawson. They arrived bearing hugs, apples, cookies, and sleeping necessities for the weekend away. We spent our time watching movies, playing games, catching up, and touring the area statuary, including :
The gnomes in Dawson. Of course. We discovered that the gnome chapel is open and we could walk inside and worship in the tiny pews at our own will! Pastor Lori said that the chapel has actually held wedding services before. For normal sized people and not pint sized people. Not quite sure how that works.
A dude from Uruguay who resides in Montevideo and a viking in Milan.
Then, of course, there is Lou T. Fisk in Madison.
We had a wonderful time exploring the vast western Minnesotan landscape in the freshly fallen snow on October 10. Snow. October 10. Oh. I think I also failed to mention – we found Gladys, the missing gnome. Case closed.
Let me introduce you –
7 SepTo the gnome garden, technically called “Gnome Park.” I have heard that many of you think this garden to be a figment of my imagination, my creativity running away with me, or, bluntly, a lie. I tell you, the gnome garden is not something of fairy tales but a very real and magical place on the east side of Dawson. A few things about the gnome garden:
1. I had estimated that there are 17 gnomes in the garden. Turns out there are 28 gnomes! What a gnome-tastic surprise! Not to mention, there is a map to indicate which gnome is where and the gnome’s name. Apparently, every summer there is a festival in Dawson in which a person in the community is honored an then there is a gnome made and put in the gnome garden in honor of that person.
2. Dawson gnomes are different from other gnomes, shown by a bend in their hat and a heart on their sleeve. (As noted by Daws, the leader of the gnomes, of course.)
3. Some gnomes have had unfortunate accidents, which may or may not be the result of reckless teenagers who are bored and can think of nothing else to do but steal innocent gnomes and throw them in the river. (Bored in Dawson? I can’t imagine. sarcasm) Take Gladys here. Only her gnome feet remain. Poor Gladys.
On my morning walk this morning, I documented the gnome population in the garden and hope to bring you occasional gnome profiles of the gnome people who call Dawson home.
there's no place like gnome. 