3-2-2009 Snooooooooooooooooooooooooow!

Monday was going to be a normal day for me. I was going to get out of bed around 10 a.m., shower, and grab some breakfast while I read the Gnomistani Post-Tribune-Times-Chronicle-Gazetteer. I do this routine every day, like clockwork. This morning something was amiss. Mr. and Mrs. S had not left for work when I got out of bed. I checked the calender and it wasn't a weekend or a national holiday. With my mind still in its midmorning fog, I opened the blinds to let in some light. I fell back, blinded by the overwhelming intensity of the light. Had the earth moved closer to the sun overnight? Were the police in a helicopter outside my window waiting to arrest me for that overdue library book? Had I overdosed on allergy medication last night and awoken in heaven? I fought my way back to my feet and gazed through the window again. It was...snow! I had heard stories about snow in my childhood but had never seen it in person. I honestly thought it was a legend that parents used to scare children.

Now some of you may be saying “Liar! You saw snow in Alaska!” This is incorrect, I saw ice in Alaska. Gnomistan has ice, too, lots of ice. In fact the entire northern fifth of the country is covered in ice. But the ice doesn't come from snow, it comes from Greenland. Bear with me. Early Gnomistan had no ice in the Northern region. Around the 11th century AD, a band of Vikings from Greenland landed on the Northern coast. There they discovered a small village of Gnome farmers who welcomed them with open arms. The legend says that the Vikings were very kind people but they had a problem, their heads got cold in the arctic. The Gnomes of that village were excellent hat makers and agreed to trade with the Vikings. The village was having a rough summer that year. The heat scorched the ground, the lakes had nearly dried up, and the regions once thriving snow-cone industry was in shambles. The Vikings agreed to provide them with ice in exchange for warm headgear. So on that fateful day a deal was struck. The Vikings would deliver ice to the Gnomes and the Gnomes would provide them with fur-lined helmets with large stylish horns. All was well for the first 50 years but soon they had more ice than they needed. Every year the Vikings would deliver boat loads to the north country whether it was needed or not. Eventually it covered the entire landscape. To this day the people of Greenland load up their boats and deliver acres of ice every year, despite multiple official requests to stop.

Back to the snow. Mr. S and Mrs. S spent the day at home because it was too dangerous to venture out. Mr. S had one of the region's infamous snow days but Mrs. S had to work from home. Mr. S said that we had nearly seven inches but I didn't believe him. He encouraged me to go outside with him and see for myself as he shoveled the driveway and sidewalks but I was skeptical. Seven inches is A LOT of snow for a gnome. I finally mustered the courage to check out the snow on the deck, thinking this was safer. If I sank down to the bottom of the snow and couldn't climb my way back to the top, perhaps I could burrow over to the railing and squeeze through the spindles. Always have an exit plan, my friends.

The snow was incredible. So soft and fluffy and COLD. I could have stayed out in it all day but Mrs. S became concerned when I started turning blue. She insisted that I come in and partake in some hot cocoa. Between you and me, she's been acting out a bit odd lately...very protective, and something else that I can't quite put my finger on.

Ok, don't panic. What would MacGyver do?


At least I'm trapped on something that looks pretty.


My winter wonderland.

2-28-09 Painting party

After a painstakingly long search, Mr. and Mrs. S FINALLY settled on paint colors. For weeks they had brought home paint chips and compared them to the color of their future cabinets. One day while they were at work, I thought I would lend them a hand and help them pick out a color. I brought all the chips into the living room, set them on the floor, and stared...and stared...and stared. They all looked the same! I swear they had 20 paint chips with the exact same color but different names. I suddenly flashed back to sixth grade in my Gnomistan history class and it all made sense. You see my loyal readers, Gnomistan was not always the enlightened and stable country it is today. In fact, we were quite reactionary when it came to certain issues. 319 years ago Gnomistan went through what you might call “the dark ages.” The government felt threatened by the country's flourishing water color painting movement so they cracked down on their citizens. Now the details are kind of sketchy from that period but most historians believe that government closed down all the art studios, broke and banned every paint brush smaller than two inches wide, and most horrifically, banned bright colors. They came out with the “official” color pallet for the country that consisted of only 38 colors. It was even worse than your modern home owners association's! The color pallet wasn't even well thought-out. Seven of the 38 colors were outside the range of a Gnome's eye sight and 4 of them were versions of clear! Over time our eyes evolved to only be able to see those 38 shades. Scientists are working on the problem but the cure is thought to be years away. But since we can only see a small part of the color spectrum, we gnomes developed a keen sense of discerning the minute differences between what to others would appear as virtually the same color. I called upon this evolutionary advantage to pick the paint colors for the kitchen, laundry room and powder room. At least, that's what I told Mr. and Mrs. S when they returned from work. Don't tell them but I really just picked the colors with the prettiest names.

So with the colors picked, the paint purchased, and the rollers at the ready, we began the great painting adventure. Mr. S's mother and father came down to join the fun. I, myself, was not going to participate in the painting. I have had a life-long fear of paint brush bristles that stems from an unfortunate art class tickling incident. Now every time I see a paint brush, I break out into a cold sweat and hide under the nearest table. Hence, I was content on being the foregnome on this job as we had more than enough people to help. And what progress they made! They finished all of the priming and the painting of the ceilings.

Don't you look at me...Get back to work!


This roller is WAY to big for me

Nittany Gnome: Protector of the paint