By Scott Davies
A gnome is, broadly, inanimate. Except, of course, when nobody is looking.
When nobody is looking it becomes Schrodinger’s gnome. It could be, and is, both alive and dead. Assuming it is alive you can imagine the trouble it might get into.
Drunken revelers are often blamed for moving gnomes from garden to garden, but I have a secret to tell you: It isn’t them. It never was them. No gnome has ever found its way from one garden to another via the warm hands of an intoxicated party-goer.
My name is Poppa Gnome, and I am the one who moves.
Lovely story. I always suspected gnomes ?
My smiley became a query. Soz.
Thank you, Derek.
I notice the same thing with shelf elves. Each morning they are in a different spot from the day before.
Clears up the mystery of the missing gnome.
Clever. I must tell my friend – she loves gnomes in her garden. Me? I can’t stand them. sorry!
They certainly divide opinion, Pamela! Thank you for reading.