I had a Shamrock Shake today…


We gnomes generally steer clear of that human abomination called “McDonald’s”. However, once a year we make an exception.

This is that time of year.

This is the time for Shamrock Shakes.

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As you can see, the guys and I pooled our pocket change together and split one today. The shakes are HUGE and taller than pretty much all of us.

As we sipped the green sludge, some of the little wise guys started to chatter about  the origin and true meaning of the Shamrock Shake. This chatter provoked an ongoing investigation.

Thanks to Wikipedia, we learned that Shamrock Shakes started making the world (well, at least America, Canada, and Ireland) a better place in 1970. In 1980,  the Shamrock Sundae was introduced.

What was that all about, you ask? It was basically vanilla ice cream topped with a mint green Shamrock syrup. Sadly, the sundae was discontinued after one year due to poor sales. That sucks. I bet it was awesome.

Each time you scarf down a Shamrock Shake, you’re packing on 530 calories, 11 grams of protein, 15 grams of fat, 86 grams of carbs, and 160 mg of sodium. We gnomes are perpetually fat, so we’re not really concerned with nutrition facts though.

The shamrock chatter continued with the wee ones and questions were risen about the various forms of mint. There’s peppermint, spearmint, and probably other kinds of mint that I can’t think of right now.

Do different kinds of mint come from different species of mint leaves? Or do artificial additives contribute to the different varieties of mint taste?

These are questions best left for their very own dedicated blog post.

I leave you with these questions now so I can get back to my portion of the green goo before it melts.

Dumbledore the Gnome

A Tutorial in Gnome Sewing!

Hey kiddos!

Gramma Lurlene here ready to wow your socks off with a brand new cross stitch pattern!

I know it’s the most exciting thing you could have expected for your Thursday, but hold on to your hats ’cause we’re not out of the woods yet! I love sewing in the woods…how ’bout you?

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At first glance, you might be like, “oh that’s just a monkey.” Touché! This is not JUST a monkey. It’s a monkey wearing a gnome cross stitch bib!

Can you even believe what you’re seeing?!?

Once you’ve caught your breath, check out Material Evidence’s Etsy site. They stitched the pattern on a iPhone case, but you can stitch it on whatever you like.

As if this GNOME pattern wasn’t amazing enough, it’s also FREE! How many other free things have people sent to you today? Probably none. You’re welcome very much!

Don’t know how to cross stitch? No problem! It’s one of the easiest sewing crafts to master and it requires very few materials. Check out a this video posted by one of my best human friends for a quick tutorial.

Happy stitching!

Your drunk gramma,
Lurleen The Gnome

Gnomes have the last laugh as Chelsea Flower Show lift the ban after 170 years!

“We’ve all heard of the glass ceiling and how hard it is to smash it. But what about the earth ceiling?”

By: Anna Pukas

Published: Mon, February 11, 2013

These chaps will be welcomed by enthusiasts to bring character and humour to the Chelsea Flower Show.

After a century of rejection a great ­inequality is about to be rectified: garden gnomes are to be allowed into this year’s Chelsea Flower Show. In the 100 years since it began the pointy-capped figurines have always been denied entry to the world’s most prestigious garden show. Gnomes may be much-loved by suburban gardeners throughout the land – and indeed other lands – but the Royal Horticultural Society claims they distract people from looking at plants. That at least is the official line. Many believe the real reason for the ban is plain snobbery. Gnomes are considered too “below stairs” for Chelsea. Too tacky.

But in Chelsea’s 100th anniversary year show the RHS has decided not only to allow gnomes in but to grant them VIP status. There will be “best-dressed” gnomes decorated by celebrity fans (Dolly Parton is known to be one while the late George Harrison was photographed in the Seventies with his favourite gnome peeping out of his shirt) and 150 gnomes will be lined up on parade for inspection by the Queen. (Somehow you just know that Her Majesty will approve.) After all those years of slights and snobbery, gnomes are ­getting a little respect.

And about time too, for the history of the garden gnome is far older than the Chelsea Flower Show. Garden gnomes predate the RHS itself (founded in 1805) by at least a ­couple of centuries and have in their time been regarded variously as lucky talismans, ­symbols of class warfare and even instruments of ­political subversion.

They first appear during the Renaissance in the writings of Swiss alchemist Paracelsus who described diminutive figures two spans in height who did not like to mix with humans.

The word gnome derives from the Latin gnomus which itself comes from the Greek genomosmeaning “earth-dweller”. According to Paracelsus, gnomes could move through solid earth as easily as humans move through air. The word first appears in English in the early 18th century referring to reincarnations of prudish women in Alexander Pope’s poem The Rape Of The Lock.

For all its English associations the garden gnome is originally German. Though landscape artists in Renaissance Italy used gnome-like statues in gardens and gnome figures made of porcelain or wood were popular as house ornaments in the 18th century, Baehr and Maresch of Dresden are credited with stocking the first ceramic examples in 1841. From the German provinces of Saxony and Thuringia garden gnomes soon spread across Germany to France and then to Britain.

I n European folklore gnomes are ­benevolent creatures who come out at night to help humans in secret with their chores in the home or fields. The first ceramic figures were often modelled on characters from local myths but were soon credited with supernatural powers as protectors of barns and garden stores.

The first gnomes crossed the Channel in 1847 with Sir Charles Isham, 10th baronet, who wanted something colourful for the rock garden at Lamport Hall, his Northamptonshire home, and bought 21 terracotta figures from German manufacturer Philip Griebel. One of the original batch – nicknamed Lampy – can still be seen at the Isham estate and is valued at £2million.

The Griebel company makes gnomes to this day. The only time production dipped was during the Second World War and for a few years afterwards when the communist regime in what ­became the German Democratic Republic (East Germany) were convinced the gnomes could be used for ­smuggling. Eventually their fears were ­assuaged and garden gnomes went on to ­become East Germany’s leading export.

Britain’s golden age for gnomes was in the Thirties when the expansion of the suburbs led to more people having gardens which of course really meant more working-class ­people. Perhaps the most notable British manufacturer was Tom Major-Ball, the father of our last working-class PM John Major.

But that ubiquity also spelled the beginning of the end for gnomes. Originally fashioned from runny clay poured into moulds, baked in a kiln and then hand-painted, the introduction of cheap plastic ­models robbed the garden gnome of any vestige of artistic merit it might have once possessed. And it was not just the RHS that took against them ­because gnomes became the vilified target for what some would call pranksters and what others might label vandals.

In the Seventies a London journalist snatched dozens of gnomes from gardens and hanged them from nooses in his bedroom. In 2008 a 53-year-old man in Brittany was ­accused of stealing more than 170 garden gnomes. Gnomes have vanished from gardens only to be next seen when the owner receives a postcard depicting the statue in some foreign l­ocation or other. (In the French film Amelie, that was what persuaded her extremely uptight father to branch out and go travelling.)

In the US a group who call themselves the Gnome ­Liberation Front campaign to “stop oppressive gardening” and free gnomes from “enslavement” in flower beds, lawns, garden centres.

In previous years at Chelsea protesters dressed as gnomes have demonstrated outside the gates, demanding equal entry rights for what you might call our own version of the ­Terracotta Army. All harmless fun one might say which does nobody (gnome-body?) any harm and the RHS is keen to join in. “It is important for people to realise we have got a sense of ­humour and don’t take ourselves too seriously,” says RHS director-general Sue Biggs.

However victory for gnomes and those who love them will be short-lived. In fact it will last just for the four days of this year’s flower show. Next year gnomes are to be banished back into garden apartheid.

In which case stand by for the battle of gnome-man’s land.

I looooooooooooove flowers!!!!!!!!!!!!!
XOXO Tabitha the Gnome

A Gnome Poem About Peas


It’s National Gnome Poem Day! Did anyone else know that?!

Doubtful, because I just made it up! Why did I make up this awesome holiday, you ask?

Because many gnomes around The Abode have lost their romanticism. Sure, we celebrated Valentine’s Day and all, but what’s supposed to happen when the flowers dies and the chocolates go stale?


Poems happen. And that’s because poems live forever.

And with that, I will read my latest one aloud (via text) to you!

I eat my peas with honey;

I’ve done it all my life.

It makes the peas taste funny,

But it keeps them on the knife!

Keeping the love alive, one masterpiece at a time.

The Quick Brown Fox the Gnome



I’m doing my best to maneuver the jungles of Costa Rica. I thought I came prepared. I read about how to deal all the native animals….the monkeys, the sloths, the birds, and so forth.

What I didn’t expect to find was a killer zebra in a tree!


Or a vicious llama!


Speaking of llamas, did I ever share my favorite song of all time with you?

I need a beer.


What the hell is going on down here?
Rj Simmons Jr.