This is Gnorman, my Gnome.  I found him in a flea market and had to have him.  Not because I’m a gnome collector and not even because he was just so darned cute.  He wasn’t.  He was really horrid looking until his recent makeover (thank you, Mom).

No, the reason I had to have Gnorman was because the sight of him took me back to something my brother and I used to laugh at together.  I considered taking my then hideous looking $5 gnome and leaving him as a surprise on my brother’s porch.  But, the more I looked at him, the more I wanted to keep him.

Gnorman stayed gnameless for a year.  He also stayed sadly chipped and badly painted while he faithfully stood sentinel under my tree, except for the few times I found him lying down on the job after being bowled over by a rogue squirrel.  Gno, Gnorman got his gname after his makeover when, on returning from vacation and seeing his cheery attire and all the happy little details someone else had covered over with a slop of green and a blob of brown paint, I gnoticed how his skintones, all peaches and cream, reminded me of Norman, the son of the man who journeyed to America from Denmark with my great-grandfather.  So, he’s Gnorman gnow.

What touches of whimsy do you have around your house?

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