For those who know me, it’s no secret that I have an obsession with strange little men wearing hats. I invite them over, or lure them to my home, and then I imprison them on a living room bookshelf or kitchen windowsill for eternity. I know it sounds weird, but I even hang them from trees in my backyard, and plant them in my garden. Collecting effeminate little men is not typical, but I think it’s better than collecting cow figurines or crocheted pot holders. Besides, who doesn’t want to come home to a bunch of little smiling eyes and rosy cheeks everyday? My favorite little guys are the oldest, craggiest of the bunch, or the ones with a story - like the kabauter (that's Dutch for gnome) who escaped from a Holland street vendor and made the journey to my living room lair after stowing away in my friend's suitcase.
And while I am confessing my strange obession, I should mention that I don’t stop at gnomes. I love dusty old Santas too. In fact, during this time of year, I can hardly wait until Thanksgiving is over to liberate my santa collection from the attic. I clear off the best table surface in the living room, and lovingly arrange them for their 30-day reprieve.
My gnomes and Santas may not have chosen this life, but it’s a better life than the lonely, cold one they were destined for on eBay or a flea market junk table. At least I offer unending adoration and a good dusting once in while. In return, they warm my home and give me a good chuckle. It's a symbiotic relationship.
Wishing you the most merry Christmas!
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