Garden Gnomes | ||||||||
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Garden Gnome Rain Gauge
| Gnome Rain Gauge
| Hunting Garden Gnome
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Garden Gnome with Cart
| Gnome Bird Feeder
| Reading Garden Gnome
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Welcome Garden Gnome
| Garden Gnome with Firewood
| Garden Gnome with Frog Spitter
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Garden Gnome Pouring Beer
| Gnome Sleeping on Mushroom
| Small Swinging Garden Gnome
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Welcome Garden Gnome
| Solar Garden Gnome
| Tending Garden Gnomes
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Gnome With Turtle
| Gnome Carrying Fruit
| Dancing Gnome Couple
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Golfing Garden Gnome
| On Strike Sleeping Gnome
| Welcome Standing Gnome
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Gnome with Cart Planter
| Gnome with Watering Can
| Gnome with Basket Planter
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Ma and Pa Nature - Dirt Dwarfs
| Garden Gnome on Leaf Swing
| Garden Gnome with Wheelbarrow
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Checkers Solar Gnome
| Gnome Solar Light
| Solar Garden Gnome
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Gnome Gnome Sewing Pants
| Hanging Gnome with Lantern
| Hanging Gnome with Lantern
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Shoveling Garden Gnome
| Skiing Garden Gnome
| Swinging Garden Gnome
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Farmer Garden Gnome
| Sleeping Garden Gnome
| Garden Gnome Couple
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Life Size Garden Gnome with Solar Lantern
| Drinking Garden Gnome
| Garden Gnome Couple on Cart
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Garden Gnome with Bunny
| Standing Garden Gnome
| Bathing Garden Gnome
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History of Garden GnomesThe gnome was first “studied” if that were possible considering their reported lifestyle, in the 16th century. A Swiss alchemist, one Parcelus, fingered them as a subterranean creature with a bent for tricks and chicanery as well as their gardening, all of which took place at night since a single ray of sun could turn them to stone. That theory was a bonanza for the Griebel family of Germany, who 200 years later began manufacturing terra cotta figures in the standard perceived image of the gnome – grouchy little men, often hump-backed, with beards, and a pointed hat. A great many of them also smoked pipes, but it’s thought this was an addition of the manufacturers and not part of historical (or hysterical) record. While this was apparently the first mass production of little people, circa 1860, they were made before that in small numbers by craftsmen with whimsy and a cautious eye on the burgeoning garden decoration market. Sir Charles Isham of England, besotted with the little be…beasts, imported 21 of them from Germany in the 1840s. Today there is only one survivor of that historic line – Lampy, a somewhat grizzled character who like most hired help, stands there leaning on his shovel, with a hand on his vest. But he is literally worth his weight in gold, having been insured for one million pounds, roughly $2 million US. Why would these awe-inspiring pieces of miniature mayhem have disappeared? Because Isham’s daughters hated them. When the sometimes spiritualist went to that great Séance Table in the sky, his daughters swept Lamport Hall in Northamptonshire, and destroyed them all. Except one, who perhaps having heard them coming, retreated to his underground tunnel to fight another day. This was not the first instance of gnome rage. The Chelsea garden show in the UK have banned the endearing little devils, claiming that they detract from the displays of flora. Gnome lovers take great exception to this and have suggested this is a case of snobbery, gnomes being beloved of the lower classes. Sadly, there are other cases that have become public expressions of shameless prejudice. In the final episode of the British television cult classic Citizen Smith, an army tank is stolen and stored inside a family’s garages. When one character climbs inside to investigate just what this monstrous tin can really is, he accidentally presses the “fire” button and annihilates in tortuous, slow motion, more than 30 garden gnomes in the back yard. This episode was greeted with much acclaim by the anti-gnome faction. There is however, an up side to the tenuous life of gnomes. Those who are tender of heart, and perhaps missing some cards from their deck of life, have embraced the race with a passion and fervor unmatched since the original Star Trek series went off the air. There are adopt a gnome societies, free the gnomes organizations, and liberationists that freelance by stealing gnomes and sending their bereft owners snapshots of their missing family member enjoying vacations in exotic locales. Wouldn’t that just warm the cockles of Sir Charles’ heart? | ||||||||
