This weekend I took a trip back to New York with my family for my Grandfather's funeral. He died at the age of ninety-three, but you can't feel too bad for the guy since he lived in his own home his whole life, right up to until the last two weeks of his life. That's not too shabby.
And since it has been a few years since I have been out there, I got to visit with a few relatives.
There's no place like gnome... or Gnomeland, as we took to calling my uncle's house. ( My sister-in-law wanted to call it Gnomeville, but that's just not proper gnomenclature)
My uncle got married shortly before I did to a nice lady who has an extensive collection of gnomes. The photo above is merely the tip of the iceberg that greets you as you pull into the drive. Lining the driveway, all the way to the back yard, are these yellow faces and watering can signs.
Gnome is where the heart is...
Upon entering the house, after passing a ferocious looking fellow holding an axe, you are greeted with wall upon wall of gnomes.
I asked Janet which was her favorite gnome, and she couldn't pick just one. Just don't ask what the difference is between a gnome and an elf, because you are likely to get an etymology lesson
Home is where the gnome is...
and these gnome on the back fence have a lot of pets.
A house isn't a home without a gnome...
and I really like this saucy fella! I think I am going to try and do a portrait of him one of these days!
When in gnome...
play with the woodland creatures!