When I was a child, the adults in my life were mostly hippies.  It was the 70s, to be expected.  We used to spend lots of time at my uncle’s house, who I will refer to as Head Hippie going forward.  The Head Hippie and his sister, Mom Hippie, were very close and had lots of fun together.  The parties over there were looooooooonnnng.  We kids had to entertain ourselves sufficiently for extended periods of time, without the luxury of a DS or portable DVD player.  Something my kids would never be able to survive, I’m sure.

I used to lie under the coffee table of Head Hippie’s house and look at this book, Gnomes, by Rien Poortvliet and Wil Huygen.  Every time.  The WHOLE time.  I loved that book.  It detailed both in words and fantastic illustrations the life of a Forest Gnome and every aspect of Gnome existence.  Seriously, it was detailed.  And then Wife Hippie divorced Head Hippie and all parties at that house ceased.  I never knew what happened to that book.  I never saw it again.  Of course all aspects of Gnome life were by that point ingrained in my brain, and I was able to successfully coexist peacefully with the Gnomes I was certain must be living in the woods behind our new house.  In Algonquin, the complete boonies!  You know, because there aren’t a lot of forests in the metropolis that is Hanover Park, IL to feed the imagination in this arena.

A couple of years ago it came up, this book.  I can’t remember why, probably speaking to my daughter about fairies and gnomes and the like.  My husband, in all his wonderful non hippy-ness bought me a lovely reprinted copy of both Gnomes, the book I used to pour over, AND the second volume I don’t even remember seeing entitled Secrets of the Gnomes.  I completely read them from cover to cover so as to relive my childhood, looked longingly out the window at the woods out back, and put them on a bookshelf.

Yesterday in talking about our rat tragedy with a coworker, somehow we got on the subject of children’s books that we love, like The Mouse and the Motorcycle by Beverly Cleary, and fairies (she likes them), and then gnomes (I like them more).  I admit that I’m no expert, but my opinion is that you must pick a side.  Fairies or Gnomes.  It’s like Madonna or Cyndi Lauper, Siskel or Ebert, pudding or jello. Similar, but you have to pick one or the other because they’re just different enough that you can’t like them equally.  It caused me to go home and dig out my Gnomes book again.  I brought it in today to show my friend, mostly to convince her that Gnomes are clearly so much better, probably, but she wasn’t in today.  Dammit!

Clearly these books have had an impact.  Obsessed a little?