It's nice when you get happy over the small things in life, and I am delieriously over the moon with this adorable little vintage plastic gnome I found yesterday. He is adorably kitch don't you think? I haven't found a final resting place for him yet, decisions, decisions, decisions....
There's only one way to end this post, and that's with a tiny poem. This was one my favourites when I was little....that and the story about the polar bear cub in the zoo who wouldn't listen to his mother and take a bath. I think my poor mom must have heaved a huge sigh of relief when I finally outgrew hearing them
I met a little gnome one day down where the river flows
I asked him why he was so small and why he did not grow
He slightly smiled and with one eye he looked me through and through and said
I’m just as big for me said he as you are big for you
For some unaccountable reason, I still get a teeny weeny thrill running through me when I read this poem - you have to realise that I seriously believed that this particular gnome lived at the bottom of my garden.