…and now I run a free clinic

 

Some weeks ago it was brought to my attention that our gnome, who has been resting in a corner of my weed garden…for about a decade, had been injured.

I must confess that during the winter months I rarely visit the weeds (a collection of indigenous wild flowers) and was unaware of the gnome’s plight.  He was suffering from sunstroke, hyperthermia and sever bruising from a recent hail storm.

He was cracked, colorless and chipped.  After careful applications of Bondo, hours of careful sanding and roughly fifteen layers of paint and Spar Varnish (two weeks work, 25$ in materials) he ready for another nap among the weeds.

My work was done…yeah…right.

The SWMBO informed me this morning that I had visitors in the garage and that they had been invited by Gnorm (our gnome).

I was greeted by a small army of very unhealthy gnomes of varying sizes and postures, nine to be exact.  The SWMBO claims this was none of her doing and I have heard snickering in the weeds.

The clinic is now open for business…i guess.

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Published by

MW Moore

I am surrounded by books with great, even heroic quotes, grand philosophies and theologies, mysteries and wonderments. I've never met an author of any. Oh what a finer person I would be if I had raised my voice above the pounding of the sea with Cicero, walked with Saul on that road to Damascus and on and on and on. Well, I didn't. But I've met some pretty swell people that had something to say...and they're all related to me; they're My Family Jewels.

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