As you know, granny’s house is the sanctuary for retiring and aged gnomes, and any other strange garden creature that happens to catch her fancy. Hence wooden eagles, Jazz frog, a cement dog with one ear, and a fat stone hedgehog with a face like a smacked arse.
This year the gnomes have had to be rescued from the garden, and are now huddled together on the table on her verandah, while the enormous wooden eagles, Sissy and Leera glare over them, protecting them from incomers.
Usually by this time, the gnomes have been freed from hibernation and are frolicking about in the long grass, being treated to mud pies by Tilly and having their washing done by Tallulah. Oscar mostly likes to leap out on them from behind bushes.
The garden is far too wet for any gnome based frivolity at the moment, and things are very forlorn at the Sanctuary.
I may suggest that the next time we are at granny’s house, the children fashion them an ark.
As they were being rounded up and saved from the apocalyptic floods, we found this one:
The last time Geoff the gardener had a fire, he had obviously crept too close, huddling in the warm embers, and had met his maker.
It is all very Richard II
‘Let us sit upon the ground, and tell sad stories of the death of gnomes.’
I will let you know when funeral arrangements have been made.