Posts Tagged ‘Gnomes’

Come Hither Kale, Mr. Candyland Game, Seductive Books and a Black-Eyed Gnome

My kale has apparently been sending out pheromones and/or seductive telepathic vibes to my non-kale eating friends! Today, while out to tea with me, my non-kale-friendly friend, Suzanna, happened to mention with a gleam in her eye, “I just keep thinking about your kale! You know I don’t really like kale, but I keep thinking about yours.” She smiled a dreamy smile.

“That’s kind of strange,” I said, “because David’s sister sent me an email last night about my kale, and we have never known her or any member of her little family to eat kale, either! It was quite a passionate email: ‘Ask David about ground kale in mashed potatoes. Maybe we can have some of that at Christmas, if you love us enough.’ And then today, David’s dad drove by, saw me repotting pineapple sage in the garage and stopped over for a visit. We walked back to the gardens and he said for the first time ever, ‘Do you think I could get a couple leaves of that kale?’ That’s three people in less than twelve hours asking about my kale.”

“Three non-kale-eaters,” Suzanna replied, then added with another gleam in her eye, “that we know of!”

She mentioned having seen some photos of kale on my blog “awhile back” and I asked if she had seen my horizontal kale.

horizontal kale

She wasn’t sure she had, but when I described how this one had decided to stretch out across the newly opened garden bed, we both started laughing. “That must be the one!” she said. In my mind, I saw my kale [un]dressed as a reclining nude, seductively beckoning my non-kale-eating friends and perhaps even unknown others.

Well, that little giggle fest reminded me of my bizarre dream this morning after a brief bout of insomnia. I awoke at 4:22 a.m. — tired, but for the life of me I could not fall back to sleep. Even my usual trick of lying on my stomach with pillow against my crown did not produce the desired snooze. I finally played my most reliable insomnia trick: I asked the faeries for a Dream. Lulling myself into the dream, instead of counting sheep, for some reason, I found myself in a classroom with someone writing on the chalkboard all the different ways to spell “Whatchu” as in “Whatchu talkin’ about, Willis?” Who knew there were so many ways?!

When David’s alarm went off, I was deep in the middle of dream in which our house was completely decked out for Christmas. Every nook and cranny and surface had some sort of Christmas bling on it. Someone presented me with a huge stocking with LAURA written in glitter, and then a large “man” rounded the corner and nearly ran me over. Was he The Candy Man? You tell me! He had on bright orange tights and clown makeup with a jester’s cap, and his entire torso was the Candyland game box.

“I’m the only Game in town,” he said.

“Yeah, all the rest are Jokes!”

I looked around to see who’d said that, and a bunch of little guys appeared in blue apparel — kind of a cross between Santa’s elves and Smurfs, except with blue clothes instead of blue skin. They elbowed each other and guffawed. I looked at their name tags, “Punch Line Joke,” “Very Punny Joke” and others like that — about as many Joke names as there were ways to spell “Whatchu.”

“I’m the only Game in town,” boomed Mr. Candyland Game.

“Yeah, all the rest are Jokes!” The little blue clad men suddenly stood in front of all the shops in downtown Goshen, and the Game stood proudly in front of his. “I’m the only Game in town.” “Yeah, all the rest are …”

And then I woke up.

Those faeries and elves are having fun with me. On the way home from tea, I got a little poke in the brain to “Go to the bookstore!”

“Are you serious?” I thought, “I was just telling Suz I’m reading twelve books right now. They better have bookmarks there.”

“Just go! We’ll even change the light for you, so you don’t have to stand in the cold on the corner.” At that very moment, the crosswalk sign switched to Walk again, even though I had not pushed the button, and the intersection had most assuredly not gone through its cycle.

I went into Better World Books and found myself at the gardening section. Surprise, surprise! One title caught my eye right away: “The New Victory Garden” by Bob Thomson. I rolled my eyes, because imho, I have bought more than enough gardening books this year.

“Look at the price!” blasted across my brain, followed by almost palpable, excited, energetic giggles. I turned it over, and how ’bout that, this new book was marked $4.98.

“Too good to pass up, dontcha think?” Wink, wink, and more of those high vibe giggles that were much more felt than heard.

“Okay, okay…”

“But wait! There’s more.”

And so there was …

I then found myself in the spiritual section. Yep, another big surprise there. I scanned the shelves, because I could feel Something waiting for me. Nothing jumped out at me, but I got a sudden urge to pull out a book whose title did nothing for me. Behind that book was tucked, “A Field Guide to Irish Fairies,” by Bob Curran. Pure, crystalline laughter tinkled across my brain. I started to walk away, both books in hand, when I felt a tug, a raised eyebrow and a silent, “Ahem!!!” at the back of my head.

I picked a different, non-attractive-to-me book off the shelf, and hidden behind it, flat against the back of the bookshelf was “Irish Fairy Tales,” by Joseph Jacobs. I gathered my three books and received a “You may pass.” Why, thank you, kind freakshows. ๐Ÿ˜‰ Since I was already buying books, I figured I’d have a look around, maybe get some coffee beans for my brother or a book for someone else. Apparently, not! Let’s just say, various synchronous “no’s” appeared as obvious road blocks after all the synchronous “yes’s.” I bought the three come hither books. You’ll notice that, despite my best efforts at turning the iPhone around all 360 degrees and attempting to edit the photos, these books nonetheless refused to be photographed in anything resembling a normal way:

Faery books

And did the bookstore have “Better World Books” bookmarks that I could tuck into my newly purchased books? Why, no, of course they didn’t! You know why? I do. Because before I left the house today and mentioned to both David and Suzanna that I had run out of bookmarks and “needed some more,” I received the ever so slightly gleeful and mischievous intuitive message that “Faeries prefer Alphonse Mucha postcards.” Sure enough, I’ve been quickly running through these beauties, not only for my more recent books, but also for books I had been reading but set aside to make way for the current twelve. It has not escaped my attention that most of the postcards just happen to look like faeries:

Alphonse Mucha

Nor has it escaped my attention that our house gnome, known to us by his code name, “Alphonse,” currently has a black eye because he caught his hat (aka “Ferdinand”) on my coat last week. When I put him back together, everything fit fine and no black eye showed up. Instead, a huge amount of energy surged out of the gnome like a sigh of relief and expansion.

The black eye came a few nights later, after I had just reiterated to David that “Alphonse has outgrown his shell.” We had left a laundry basket near portal Door Number 4 where Alphonse stands, and somehow — I really don’t even know how, because this was logistically not plausible — my feet did a mid-air, both off the ground at the same time swish, causing me to kick the laundry basket directly into Alphonse, knocking off both (hat) Ferdinand and a tiny piece around Alphonse’s eye. We had intended to glue the piece back on, but apparently, this gnome enjoys his new bruiser look. Every time we plan to glue him together, some strange situation or distraction intervenes to derail that project.

What can I say? We employ him as an “energetic bouncer.” Maybe that black eye makes him more intimidating to undesirables:

Black-Eyed Alphonse

Black-Eyed Alphonse

So yeah, kind of a kooky day. And week. And month and year. Such is the bizarreness of life intertwined with the Faery Realm. What have I learned? I don’t know, but I sure do laugh a lot! ๐Ÿ˜‰

Gnome Magick and Sync-Winks

As anyone following my gardening and wild yard adventures knows, I’ve engaged the Faery Realm, the Elementals and Nature Spirits to help with the sometimes overwhelming task of turning a crazy mess into a beautiful, productive, human-faery-animal-plant kingdom harmonized, permaculture food forest. For the most part, we all get along, and I’ve been very grateful to them for their help.

Every once in awhile, I do run into trouble with what I’ll just call “the Faery Realm” for simplicity’s sake. Some beings really don’t like humans, even the ones who make every effort to honor Nature. They view humans (and rightly so) as destructive parasites who rape, pillage and pollute Mother Earth at the expense of not only our own realm, but theirs as well. I get that. But

I do find myself telepathically explaining that this process will take some linear time in the Human Realm. Although I routinely find myself with instant and near-instant manifestations, I haven’t found that “presto permaculture!” button for the yard. For this first year, it might seem like I’m chopping down, mulching out and imposing order far more than living and let live.

Faeries don’t like weed whackers. As in really, really, really despise them. I know this, and I give fair warning, also reminding them to keep dandelions out of the visible front yard if they don’t want me weed whacking so often. (And they have! Daily has now turned into weekly.) The yard is simply too large and wild for me to hand pick every dandelion puff ball, random cottonwood volunteer, and downright scary, unidentified monster weeds, let alone the poison ivy around the yard’s perimeters. Again, I get it. After having a completely wild, overgrown human eyesore/faery haven chopped down with the house and lot remodel before we rented this place, some of these beings remain a little p.o’d with any human intervention.

Lately, I’ve been chopping down thistles, and owwww have I ever been getting the message to stop that! The other night, I was inside, washing some dishes when all of a sudden, in my mind’s eye, I saw this little being, not more than 4-6 inches tall, grab my pointer finger with his hands, swing from it and take a bite out of my finger before he jumped away! That hurt as much as a two-year-old human’s bite, and here’s the weird thing: I actually had two little teeth marks on my finger for about an hour. I recognized it as a mischievous, bratty little Faery Realm nip, not unlike when I got hit by a stick — it literally rose up, pulled back, and whacked me, directed by an unseen hand — after I mentally told beings in the Pennsylvania woods that I was done picking up trash. I still have a bruise on my thigh from April.

All of which is to say that when you work with the Faery Realm, it’s not all fluff bunnies and cotton candy. They take the Faery Rule seriously: “A person’s word is bond,” and if you appear to be breaking your promise to them, watch out. They expect honorable actions and respect. In fact, another Faery Rule is “Respect, not control,” and that’s one fine line I continually straddle during the transformation of this yard. Patience is not a faery virtue. LOL, not that I’d know anything about that either! ๐Ÿ˜‰

For the most part, though, we all work in harmony. I’ve had more and more permaculture people over to our home, and they love my vision for this yard. I don’t tell all of them about my work with the Otherworld, but those who come inside our little Faery Cottage get greeted by two gnomes on the front porch:

"Roger the Blue" and "Alfred the Red" (not their real names, which all Elementals keep to themselves)

“Roger the Blue” and “Alfred the Red” (not their real names, which all Elementals keep to themselves)

Hiding in another corner near the stairwell are “Alphonse” and his formidable hat, “Ferdinand”:

Alphonse and Ferdinand

Yes, they’re statues, but I’ve long noticed that faeries and gnomes gravitate towards images of themselves. In fact, our garden gnomes used to talk to our friend Rainbow whenever she watered our Madison garden if we were out of town. Rainbow’s daughter, Iris, sees faeries and would “know” if anyone added a faery statue to their yard on the entire block! One time, she insisted on going outside and to the neighbor’s yard, only to have Rainbow discover that the homeowners were right then putting out some faery statues. Iris could not have seen that from inside their home, but she knew. When Rainbow and Iris stayed with us last October, Iris and I would routinely sense the same influences and visitors at the same time.

Anyway, last week, I had a mini Transition Goshen meeting at our home, including one member’s very little boy. Arthur took a real shine to “Alphonse” and “Ferdinand,” since they were approximately the same size! Arthur also embarrassed his dad by yelling, “Num, num! Chips!” and pointing to the exact cupboard where David had just that morning put some newly purchased organic corn tortilla chips. I’m not sure if my revelation of that fact helped matters or not, but I’m telling you, little kids are way more aware than most people think.

So here we all were, talking about serious strategies to bridge cultural gaps in our community and to find ways to spread awareness of the many food resources available to lower income families besides food stamps or Social Security. We came up with some exciting ideas and agreed to touch base in a little while. Yesterday, while at the Farmers Market, I saw one of the women who joined in the meeting. I walked over to say hi to her at her homemade soap booth and noticed that she had a natural mosquito repellant balm in answer to my previous night’s lakeside request to stop the devouring of me! There it was, gnome and all:

"Gnome More Skeeters" from http://soapygnome.com

“Gnome More Skeeters” from http://soapygnome.com

Thanks for the answered demand prayer, you little Earth Elementals! An even more immediate response surprised me, since I had just washed my hair before going to the market, only to find that my new conditioner had left an icky film on my hair. Not cool! I only wash my hair a couple times per week. That kind of instant grease would seriously crimp my lazy style. I glanced at the table again and saw that she had “Shampoo Bars.” She assured me they work very well for dry hair and require no conditioner. I had just picked up a regular bar when she said, “You might want to check out the Gnome Shampoo Bars, since I noticed in your home and garden that you like gnomes.” Sure enough, look at this cute little guy:

Gnome Shampoo Bar from http://soapygnome.com

Gnome Shampoo Bar from http://soapygnome.com

(I haven’t tried the shampoo bar yet, but I can vouch for the Gnome More Skeeters. We walked by the Mill Race last night and I only got bit once, in a spot I hadn’t put any balm. That’s about a 20 bite reduction from the previous night’s near water adventure.)

I’ve also had some other little Sync(hronous) Winks in the vein of “ask and you shall receive.” In my negotiations with the unhappy, impatient members of the Faery Realm yard brigade, I’ve repeatedly mentioned, “Look, I will plant trees. It’s not all about cutting down the regrowth from stumps. If you want trees now, then get them now. They need to be fruit or nut trees, but I’m also open to holly, hawthorn and rose bushes.” I went to my favorite farmer’s booth — the guy who gave me three nettle plants and from whom I buy more unusual items like daikon radishes and burdock root. He had some unusual looking plants in red cups. “What are these, I asked? Apricot trees?” “Close!” he said, “They’re persimmon trees.” I asked if they were for sale and he informed me they were a special order from a customer who had yet to show up. I expressed interest and he left multiple messages with that customer, who continued to be a no-answer, no-show. Guess who walked away with three persimmon trees to love and eventually plant?

Three very small persimmon tree starts

Three very small persimmon tree starts

See? Even the more mischievous, biting, smacking, poking faeries can help when treated with respect!

Last week, I am sad to report, I accidentally weed whacked one of my goji berry bushes into oblivion. ๐Ÿ˜ฆ It was the weaker of the two, but I still felt really bad. Not only will I have less than my intended two bushes, but I felt a little alarmed that I could be so reckless with the weed whacker. Yes, I’m paying attention now to why the Faery Realm really despises the weed whacker. Yesterday, I asked for some extra protection around my remaining goji berry bush, which is so tiny that you can’t even really notice it amidst the neighboring dandelions yet. It will eventually be 7 feet tall and equally wide, but for now, it’s a little guy, who just lost his companion. I mentally requested extra protection for this plant from rabbits nibbling on its leaves and especially from yours truly. Again, ask and you shall receive. I awoke this morning to find an obvious sign of faery protection!

Faery Ring Around the Goji Bush

Faery Ring Around the Goji Bush

And this completes today’s installment of how gnomes, faeries and Nature Spirits, when treated with love and respect, reveal themselves in the garden, home and outer world. Kooky? Yes, absolutely! But they do leave their marks for those with eyes to see.