enchanted gnome

by Bill Tiepelman

A Gnome’s New Year Revelry

The Gnome Who Gave Zero F***s About New Year's It was a snowy New Year’s Eve in the middle of nowhere—exactly how the gnome liked it. His name? Didn’t matter. Let’s just call him "That Gnome." He wasn’t the cute kind you’d stick in a garden. No, this one was a little rough around the edges, with a long curly hat that screamed, “I’m festive, but also don’t touch me.” That Gnome was perched on a wooden stump, surrounded by glittering crap that would make even Martha Stewart gag from the excess. A Christmas tree, decked out in so much gold it looked like a Kardashian got to it, loomed behind him. At his feet, champagne bottles were scattered like battlefield casualties, their corks long popped, their bubbly contents half-drained. “Here we go again,” he muttered, staring at the fireworks that were lighting up the snowy forest sky. “Another year, another pile of resolutions no one’s gonna keep. Cheers to more lies and gym memberships!” He grabbed his glass of champagne, but not before kicking over a perfectly wrapped gift. "What is this? Socks? F***ing socks again? I live in the damn woods! What part of ‘practical’ don’t you people understand?” He sighed dramatically and took a swig. The bubbles burned just right. He’d definitely regret it tomorrow, but that was tomorrow’s problem. The Party Nobody Was Invited To Despite his grumpy demeanor, That Gnome had set quite the scene. Candles flickered, casting a warm glow over the forest clearing. Golden ornaments dangled from nearby trees, glinting in the firelight. A clock, ominously ticking down to midnight, sat on a makeshift table. He’d stolen it from a passing hiker months ago. Recycling, he called it. “Ten minutes until midnight,” he grumbled, looking at the clock. “Just enough time to regret everything I’ve eaten this week and remind myself that kale is still garbage.” He leaned back against the stump, watching the world celebrate through his tiny, judgmental eyes. Somewhere, people were singing “Auld Lang Syne,” holding hands, and pretending they weren’t going to ghost half the people in that room by February. Midnight Madness The countdown began, and That Gnome groaned audibly. “Ten… nine… blah, blah, blah,” he mocked as the fireworks began to crescendo overhead. “Three… two… one—oh, look! It’s another year where I have to pretend to care!” The clock struck midnight, and the forest exploded in light and noise. Fireworks crackled, the tree sparkled, and That Gnome raised his glass. “Cheers to you, 2025. Let’s see if you can suck a little less than last year. Though, knowing how this world works, I’m not holding my breath.” He drained his glass in one gulp and threw the flute into the snow. “That’s it! Party’s over. Go home, you losers!” he shouted to absolutely no one. He was, after all, completely alone. Resolution? Don’t Hold Your Breath By the time the fireworks faded and the champagne bottles were empty, That Gnome was passed out in the snow, snoring loudly. His curly hat drooped comically over his face, and his beard was covered in glitter from a champagne mishap. Somewhere in his alcohol-soaked brain, he muttered, “Next year, I’ll try harder. Just kidding—screw that.” And there he lay, the most festive, grumpy little gnome in the forest, dreaming of a world where people actually gave up on the whole “New Year, New Me” charade. As far as he was concerned, New Year’s resolutions were for suckers, and champagne was the only thing worth celebrating. So, here’s to That Gnome: the hero we didn’t ask for, but the one we all secretly are. May your New Year be full of snark, sass, and just enough champagne to make it bearable.     Shop the Look Love the vibe of this grumpy little gnome’s celebration? Bring some of that festive sass into your home or wardrobe with these amazing products: Shop this scene as a tapestry – Perfect for covering that boring wall you’ve been meaning to fix. Canvas print – Because your living room deserves a gnome’s touch of sarcasm. Throw pillow – A soft place to rest while you contemplate your next fake resolution. Tote bag – For carrying your champagne and snacks to the next party you’ll regret attending. Start your year with a laugh and some style! Click the links above to shop now.

by Bill Tiepelman

Lantern Light and Holly Delight

The Day After Christmas: The Gnome Chronicles The day after Christmas dawned cold and bitter. Snow still clung to the pine branches outside the gnome’s hut, but inside, it smelled of regret, spiked eggnog, and faintly of burnt gingerbread. Our hero, the holiday gnome—known in certain circles as Gary—sat at his wooden table, nursing a hangover the size of Santa’s naughty list. Gary squinted at the mess around him. Broken ornaments glittered like shameful confetti, and the pine needles on the floor looked less festive and more like a crime scene. His lantern flickered on the table, barely holding onto its dignity. “Why the hell did I do shots with those damned elves?” Gary grumbled, rubbing his temples. “Those little bastards are like frat bros with pointy ears.” The Night Before It had started innocently enough. Christmas Eve had been perfect—snow was falling, carolers were singing, and Gary had successfully avoided the reindeer potluck (he had a sneaking suspicion about what "venison surprise" really meant). By Christmas night, however, the elves showed up at his hut with “a little cheer,” which turned out to be a keg, a deck of questionable playing cards, and enough eggnog to sedate a moose. Gary had intended to keep it classy, sipping his spiked nog and munching on cookies. But then Elroy, the ringleader of the elves, brought out the peppermint schnapps. “One shot won’t kill you, G-Man!” Elroy had chirped, grinning like the devil in a holiday sweater. That was the beginning of the end. Fast forward three hours, and Gary was wearing his red knit hat like a toga, belting out inappropriate versions of Christmas carols. “Deck the halls with boughs of holly—fa-la-la-la-*burp*! La-la-la-screw-it-all!” He barely remembered the elf conga line, but he distinctly recalled losing a bet that involved twerking on the mistletoe. Regrets (and an Angry Reindeer) Now, in the harsh light of the day after, Gary faced the aftermath. His overalls were smeared with frosting from some ill-advised cupcake fight, and his boots were missing entirely. He suspected the elves had stolen them as a prank. To make matters worse, there was a pile of reindeer poop outside his front door, which suggested he’d angered someone in Santa’s fleet. Again. He groaned as he spotted his phone blinking on the table. A text from Elroy read, “Legendary party, bro! Also, I think you owe Prancer an apology.” Gary frowned. What could he have possibly done to Prancer? The memory was foggy, but flashes of him trying to ride a reindeer like a drunk cowboy came to mind. “Dammit,” he muttered. “That explains the hoof mark on my ass.” The Clean-Up He spent the rest of the morning cleaning up the carnage. The snow-dusted wooden planks outside his hut were littered with half-empty bottles and candy cane shards. He found his missing boots under a bush, inexplicably tied together with tinsel. As for the reindeer poop, he shoveled it into a sack labeled “Return to Sender” and left it by the elves’ workshop. By noon, Gary had restored some semblance of order, though his dignity was still in short supply. He brewed a strong cup of coffee (spiked, of course) and sat down to reflect on his choices. The gnome life wasn’t easy—living in the woods, dealing with tourists taking selfies, and now, apparently, fending off wild elf parties. But as Gary sat there, watching the snow fall softly outside, he felt a grudging sense of pride. Sure, he’d made some questionable decisions. Yes, he’d probably be on Prancer’s blacklist for a while. But wasn’t that what the holidays were about? Joy, laughter, and the occasional peppermint schnapps bender? The Resolution Gary raised his mug in a toast to himself. “Here’s to another year of festive chaos,” he declared, ignoring the fact that he was still wearing a candy cane stuck in his beard. “Next year, I’ll double the rum.” As the gnome settled in for a well-deserved nap, a faint knock came at the door. He opened it to find a reindeer, looking unamused, holding a note in its mouth. It read, “Prancer is not amused. Expect coal.” Gary sighed, grabbed a bottle of schnapps, and muttered, “Well, coal makes for great barbecues.” And with that, he shut the door on Christmas and vowed to survive the New Year.     Shop the Look Bring the festive charm of "Lantern Light and Holly Delight" into your home with these featured products: Tapestry Canvas Print Throw Pillow Tote Bag Deck your halls with these festive delights and keep the holiday spirit alive all year long!

by Bill Tiepelman

Riding the Flamewing Through Fall

In the heart of the Emberwood Forest, where the leaves burned brighter than the sunset and the air smelled of cinnamon and mischief, there lived a gnome named Bramble Knickerbocker. Known as the “Rascal of the Redwoods,” Bramble’s favorite pastime was finding new ways to spice up the already chaotic forest. Today, however, he wasn’t working alone. He had a secret weapon—a small but fiery leaf dragon named Flamewing. “All right, Flamey,” Bramble said, adjusting his spectacles as he clambered onto the dragon’s back. “Today, we’re going to turn this forest upside down. Imagine it: squirrels scrambling, acorns flying, and me, the undisputed king of autumn pranks!” Flamewing snorted, a puff of golden sparks escaping from his nostrils. He flicked his tail, scattering a flurry of maple leaves behind him. Bramble took that as a yes. “Good lad,” he said, patting the dragon’s glowing, leaf-like scales. “Now, let’s get to work!” The Plan The first stop on Bramble’s list was the Acorn Harvest Festival, a beloved event where woodland creatures competed to see who could gather the most acorns. It was a serious affair—too serious for Bramble’s liking. “Let’s liven things up, shall we?” he said, steering Flamewing toward the clearing where the competition was in full swing. Squirrels darted between the trees, stuffing their cheeks with acorns, while badgers and foxes dragged baskets overflowing with the nutty bounty. Bramble reached into his satchel and pulled out a handful of enchanted acorns he’d “borrowed” from a particularly gullible wizard. “These babies will sprout dancing mushrooms when they hit the ground,” he explained to Flamewing. “Hilarious, right?” Before the dragon could protest, Bramble hurled the acorns into the clearing. They landed with soft thuds, and within seconds, bright orange mushrooms popped up, swaying and twirling to an invisible tune. The squirrels froze mid-chew, their eyes wide. Then the mushrooms started singing—badly. “🎵 Acorns, acorns, tasty and round, plant us here and we’ll dance on the ground! 🎵” Chaos erupted. Squirrels screeched and abandoned their hoards. A badger tripped over his basket, scattering acorns everywhere, while a fox attempted to bite one of the mushrooms, only to recoil in horror as it belted out an off-key solo. “This is gold!” Bramble cackled, holding onto Flamewing’s neck as the dragon hovered above the scene. “Let’s see the council top that for entertainment!” The Autumn Blaze The next stop was the Leaf Carving Contest, a tradition where woodland artists transformed fallen leaves into intricate works of art. Bramble had always found it a bit dull—too much concentration, not enough pandemonium. Naturally, he had a plan to fix that. Flamewing landed softly near the contest, his wings scattering a shower of glowing leaves. The contestants looked up, briefly distracted by the dragon’s radiant entrance. “Don’t mind us,” Bramble called, tipping his hat. “Just passing through!” As the carvers returned to their work, Bramble reached into his satchel again and pulled out a small vial of “Whirlwind Dust.” With a wicked grin, he uncorked the vial and tossed the contents into the air. A gust of wind whooshed through the clearing, sending leaves—and half-finished carvings—spiraling into the sky. “My masterpiece!” a hedgehog cried, leaping after a particularly elaborate oak leaf. A raccoon clung to his table, trying to shield his work from the mini tornado, while a deer watched in resigned silence as her entire collection was carried away. “This might be my best work yet,” Bramble said, watching the chaos unfold. Flamewing, however, was less impressed. He swatted Bramble with his tail, nearly knocking him off the saddle. “All right, all right,” Bramble muttered, rubbing his side. “I’ll dial it back. Happy now?” The Grand Finale The final stop on their tour of mayhem was the Emberwood Great Feast, a grand picnic where every creature brought their finest autumn delicacies. Bramble had no intention of ruining the feast—he wasn’t a monster—but he couldn’t resist adding a little flair. “Watch and learn, Flamey,” he said, pulling out a jar of “Sparkling Spice,” a harmless (but highly dramatic) seasoning that made food glow and emit tiny fireworks. He sprinkled it over the pies, soups, and roasted nuts while the feast-goers were distracted by a singing troupe of chipmunks. When the first fox took a bite of glowing pumpkin pie, his eyes widened in surprise. A burst of tiny fireworks exploded from his mouth, lighting up the table. Soon, the entire feast was a sparkling, crackling spectacle. Laughter filled the clearing as creatures sampled the enchanted dishes, delighted by the unexpected display. “Now this,” Bramble said, leaning back in the saddle, “is how you end a day of mischief.” The Aftermath As the sun set over Emberwood, Bramble and Flamewing lounged on a mossy hill, watching the golden light fade into twilight. “You’ve got to admit,” Bramble said, tossing Flamewing a candied acorn, “that was a pretty spectacular day.” The dragon crunched the acorn thoughtfully, then let out a puff of smoke that Bramble chose to interpret as approval. “See?” Bramble said, grinning. “You’re starting to appreciate my genius.” Just then, a familiar voice echoed through the forest. “BRAMBLE KNICKERBOCKER!” It was Elder Maple, head of the forest council, and she did not sound pleased. “Time to go!” Bramble said, leaping onto Flamewing’s back. The dragon took off, his fiery wings scattering leaves in every direction. As they soared into the night, Bramble couldn’t help but laugh. Mischief, magic, and a touch of chaos—what more could a gnome ask for?    Bring the Magic of Autumn Home Love Bramble and Flamewing’s mischievous autumn adventure? Bring the vibrant spirit of their tale into your home with our exclusive collection of stunning products: Tapestries: Add warmth and whimsy to your walls with this radiant autumn design. Metal Prints: Perfect for showcasing the brilliance of Bramble and Flamewing in sleek, modern style. Puzzles: Piece together the magic of this autumn escapade with a fun, family-friendly puzzle. Fleece Blankets: Cozy up this fall with a soft, vibrant blanket inspired by this enchanting scene. Start your collection today and let Bramble and Flamewing’s fiery adventure bring a touch of magic to your space!

by Bill Tiepelman

Petals, Pranks, and Tiny Adventures

In the heart of the Wildflower Woods, where the air shimmered with golden pollen and the mushrooms grew as plump as pillows, there lived a gnome named Wibble Thistlewhisker. Known as the forest’s resident troublemaker, Wibble was always up to something—usually something ridiculous. Today, however, he had surpassed himself. He’d recruited a fawn named Petal, whose dainty steps and flower-crowned antlers made her the picture of woodland elegance. Wibble, of course, had other plans. “All right, Petal,” Wibble said, adjusting his red hat and climbing onto her back. “Today, we’re going to prank the forest council and prove that mischief and flowers can coexist beautifully!” Petal blinked her enormous eyes, as if to ask, “Are you sure about this?” But Wibble was already busy tying a garland of wildflowers to her tail, giggling to himself. “Just wait until they see this masterpiece,” he said. “It’s going to be legendary!” The Plan The forest council, a stern group of rabbits, badgers, and a very grumpy owl named Hoarfrost, had gathered in their usual spot under the Great Oak. They were in the middle of their annual meeting, discussing serious matters like squirrel thefts and the mushroom tax. Wibble had overheard their plans earlier and decided it was the perfect opportunity for some “creative intervention.” “We’ll make our entrance during the ‘important announcements,’” Wibble explained to Petal as they approached the meeting. “I’ll deliver my ‘surprise speech,’ and you… you’ll dazzle them with your flower power.” Petal flicked her ears, unconvinced. “Don’t worry,” Wibble said. “I’ve got it all figured out.” The Entrance As Hoarfrost droned on about moss shortages, a burst of petals suddenly filled the clearing. The council looked up in confusion as Wibble and Petal emerged from the underbrush, her antlers crowned with roses and her tail trailing a garland of daisies. “Behold!” Wibble shouted, standing proudly on Petal’s back. “The Flower King has arrived to grace you with his wisdom!” The council stared in stunned silence. Hoarfrost narrowed his eyes. “What is the meaning of this?” he hooted. “We’re in the middle of a serious discussion!” “Serious discussions are overrated,” Wibble replied, grinning. “What this forest needs is a little whimsy! A little… excitement!” He clapped his hands, and the garland tied to Petal’s tail released a flurry of enchanted pollen into the air. Within moments, the rabbits began sneezing uncontrollably, and the badgers’ fur turned bright pink. “WIBBLE!” Hoarfrost bellowed, flapping his wings. “What have you done?!” The Chaos Petal, spooked by the sudden commotion, bolted. Wibble clung to her back as she leapt over mushrooms and wove through the trees, scattering petals and pollen in her wake. Behind them, the council scrambled to regain order. The rabbits sneezed themselves into a pile of dandelions, and the badgers chased their pink reflections in a nearby stream. Hoarfrost took to the air, feathers ruffled and furious. “This is not what I meant by ‘dazzle,’ Petal!” Wibble shouted as they galloped through the forest. Petal ignored him, too busy fleeing the chaos she’d unwittingly caused. Behind them, Hoarfrost’s voice echoed through the trees. “Come back here, you meddling menace!” The Grand Finale Eventually, Petal skidded to a stop in a meadow filled with golden sunlight. Wibble slid off her back, dizzy but exhilarated. “Well,” he said, brushing petals off his tunic, “that could’ve gone better. But did you see the look on their faces? Priceless!” Petal gave him a withering look and flicked her garland-free tail at him. “Don’t be like that,” Wibble said, grinning. “You were the star of the show! Everyone will be talking about this for weeks!” Just then, Hoarfrost swooped down, his feathers still coated in glittery pollen. “You,” he growled, pointing a talon at Wibble, “are banned from all future council meetings!” “What a tragedy,” Wibble replied with mock sincerity. “I was really looking forward to next year’s moss inventory report.” Hoarfrost glared at him for a long moment before flapping back toward the Great Oak. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” he called over his shoulder. The Aftermath As the forest slowly returned to normal, Wibble and Petal lounged in the meadow, watching butterflies flit among the flowers. “You know,” Wibble said, “we make a pretty good team. Mischief and elegance—who would’ve thought?” Petal nibbled on a patch of clover, clearly unimpressed. “Fine, fine,” Wibble said. “Next time, I’ll let you pick the prank. Deal?” Petal flicked her ear in what Wibble chose to interpret as agreement. As they made their way back to the village, Wibble couldn’t help but smile. Life in the Wildflower Woods was never dull—especially when you had a partner as stylish as Petal.    Bring the Whimsy Home Love Wibble and Petal’s mischievous adventure? Bring the charm and magic of their story into your home with our exclusive collection of whimsical products: Tapestries: Add a splash of whimsy and color to your walls with this enchanting woodland design. Canvas Prints: Perfect for showcasing the magical duo in vibrant, high-quality detail. Puzzles: Piece together the fun and beauty of Wibble and Petal’s adventure with this delightful puzzle. Stickers: Add a whimsical touch to your favorite items with adorable, high-quality stickers. Start your collection today and let Wibble and Petal bring a little mischief and magic into your life!

by Bill Tiepelman

Holiday Mischief with the Reindeer Rider

In the heart of the Snowdrop Forest, where icicles glittered like chandeliers and snowflakes fell as soft as whispers, the annual Festival of Antlers was underway. Every winter, the reindeer gathered to show off their most dazzling decorations, from gold garlands to glittering baubles. For the forest folk, it was the highlight of the season. For Burlap Tinseltoes, the gnome with a reputation for mischief, it was an irresistible opportunity. “This year,” Burlap announced, adjusting his oversized red hat dusted with snow, “I’m going to steal the spotlight—literally.” He stood in front of his trusty steed, a reindeer named Jinglehoof, who looked less than thrilled. “With your antlers and my genius, we’ll be the talk of the festival. All we need are a few... adjustments.” Jinglehoof let out a resigned snort as Burlap pulled a satchel from his sled. Inside was an assortment of ornaments, tinsel, and something ominously labeled “glow powder.” “Trust me,” Burlap said with a wink. “This is going to be spectacular.” The Decorating Disaster As the sun set, Burlap began his masterpiece. He wove strings of twinkling lights through Jinglehoof’s antlers, hung shiny red and gold ornaments at every available branch, and tied a glittery bell to the reindeer’s tail. For the grand finale, he sprinkled the glow powder over everything. “It’s enchanted,” Burlap explained as Jinglehoof shook glitter out of his fur. “When the moonlight hits it, you’ll sparkle like the Northern Lights!” The reindeer in the neighboring stalls looked on with a mix of admiration and secondhand embarrassment. “You’ll thank me later,” Burlap said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. Jinglehoof now resembled a cross between a Christmas tree and a firework display. “Perfection!” Burlap declared. “Now, let’s make an entrance.” The Festival Begins The Festival of Antlers was held in a snowy clearing lit by glowing lanterns. Reindeer paraded through the crowd, their antlers adorned with ribbons, garlands, and other festive decorations. The forest folk clapped and cheered, marveling at the creativity on display. Then came Burlap and Jinglehoof. Or, more accurately, Burlap came riding in at full speed, waving like a maniac while Jinglehoof galloped reluctantly into the clearing. The reindeer’s antlers lit up like a disco ball, scattering beams of multicolored light across the snow. The crowd gasped, then burst into laughter and applause. “Ladies and gentle-creatures!” Burlap announced, standing on Jinglehoof’s back and nearly toppling off. “Behold the most dazzling display in Festival history! Feast your eyes on Jinglehoof, the Reindeer of Radiance!” The crowd roared with laughter and cheers, but not everyone was impressed. Elder Hollyhorn, the head judge of the Festival, stepped forward, her antlers dripping with icicles. “This is highly unconventional,” she sniffed, glaring at Burlap. “And... is that glitter?” “Not just glitter,” Burlap said with a grin. “Magically enhanced glitter.” He snapped his fingers, and the glow powder activated. Jinglehoof’s antlers sparkled so brightly they could be seen from the next village. The crowd “ooohed” and “aaahed” as Elder Hollyhorn squinted in disapproval. The Mishap As Burlap was basking in his triumph, a wayward squirrel, hypnotized by the glittering antlers, leapt onto Jinglehoof’s head. The reindeer reared in surprise, sending Burlap tumbling into a snowdrift. The squirrel, now clinging to the antlers, panicked and accidentally triggered the bell on Jinglehoof’s tail. The enchanted bell let out a loud, echoing chime that startled every reindeer in the clearing. Chaos erupted. Reindeer dashed in every direction, their ornaments flying off like festive shrapnel. A garland-wearing fox tried to calm the crowd but ended up tangled in a string of lights. Elder Hollyhorn was nearly trampled by a stampede of candy-cane-clad fawns. Burlap poked his head out of the snow just in time to see Jinglehoof racing toward the forest, still glowing like a meteor. “Come back!” Burlap shouted, scrambling to his feet. “We haven’t even taken our victory lap!” The Aftermath It took an hour to round up the runaway reindeer, and by the time Jinglehoof was retrieved, his decorations were askew, and Burlap was banned from entering the Festival “for the foreseeable future.” Elder Hollyhorn handed him a broom and pointed at the glitter-covered clearing. “Start sweeping,” she said sternly. Burlap sighed but couldn’t suppress a grin as he watched the crowd chatter excitedly about the night’s events. Sure, it hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but he’d succeeded in making the Festival unforgettable. “Not bad for a gnome with a bag of glitter,” he muttered, sweeping up a pile of glow powder. Jinglehoof nudged him with his nose, looking equally tired and amused. Burlap patted his glowing antlers. “Same time next year?” he asked. The reindeer snorted, which Burlap took as a yes. As he trudged home through the snow, Burlap was already scheming his next big idea. After all, the holidays weren’t about perfection—they were about fun, laughter, and just a little bit of chaos.    Bring the Holiday Magic Home Love Burlap and Jinglehoof’s festive mischief? Bring the joy and laughter of their holiday adventure into your home with our exclusive collection of whimsical products: Tapestries: Add a touch of festive charm to your walls with this magical winter scene. Throw Pillows: Cozy up with Burlap’s mischief and Jinglehoof’s glowing antlers on a comfy holiday pillow. Puzzles: Piece together the fun with a delightful puzzle featuring this whimsical duo. Greeting Cards: Share the laughter and festive spirit with friends and family through these charming holiday cards. Start your collection today and let Burlap and Jinglehoof bring the magic of the holidays to your home!

by Bill Tiepelman

The Enchanted Duo in Plaid

The Enchanted Duo in Plaid: A Gnome’s Tale In the depths of the forest where the leaves whispered secrets and the wind tasted like honey mead, lived Gornick the Gnome, an eccentric figure known for his extravagant plaid hats and quirky antics. But Gornick wasn’t just any woodland gnome; he was the self-proclaimed "Master of Mischief" in the Hidden Valley of Outlandish Oddities, where magic and absurdity coexisted in a strange, whimsical harmony. One evening, as Gornick sat by his moss-covered toadstool, a puff of smoke erupted from his hat—his largest plaid hat yet. This was no ordinary hat. No, this one had "spells gone wrong" woven into its very fabric. Adorned with dried lavender, pinecones, and suspiciously crunchy berries, it was more of a magical misfire waiting to happen than a fashion statement. But Gornick didn't mind. In fact, he welcomed chaos with open, stubby arms. Sitting atop his lap was Lilith, his tiny witch companion, a doll-sized magical being with a knack for sarcasm and a heart as dark as a cauldron full of bat soup. She wasn’t just his companion; she was his little devil on the shoulder, whispering wicked ideas in his ear like, “Turn those squirrels into sock puppets!” or “Let’s hex the mushrooms to sing bawdy tavern songs at midnight.” One evening, Gornick had grown bored with his usual tricks—floating fireflies, making the river flow backwards for a laugh—so he decided it was time for a bit of real fun. "Hey Lilith," he said, scratching his scraggly beard, "How about we spice things up tonight? I’ve got just the spell." Lilith rolled her tiny, beady eyes, sitting cross-legged on his knee. "If this is like the last time when you ‘accidentally’ set your pants on fire, count me out. My hair still smells like burnt gnome." "That was not my fault!" Gornick protested. "The incantation book was in gnome-ish, and I’m more fluent in... well, whatever this is." He wiggled his fingers, causing a puff of glittery smoke to erupt from under his fingernails. "Besides, this one’s foolproof. We’re going to summon the Great Spirits of the Forest. It'll be a riot!" Lilith looked skeptical, which was her natural expression. "Foolproof, you say? Your last spell turned half the forest into tap-dancing frogs." "Fine," Gornick admitted. "That was a little froggy mishap, but this is different! Trust me, this spell will make us kings of the woodland!" He opened his ancient spellbook, which, truth be told, looked more like a gnomey shopping catalog from several centuries ago, with sections torn out and replaced with random doodles of mustaches. He chanted the incantation, his voice rising to a crescendo: "By the shadows of the twilight tree, by the dew on the midnight pea—oh spirits of the forest, come unto me!" Suddenly, the air grew thick with the scent of pine and something… else. A foul odor, like overcooked cabbage. The ground trembled, and with a great whooshing noise, a figure emerged from the mist. But it wasn’t the majestic, ethereal forest spirit Gornick had hoped for. Instead, it was a squat, greasy creature that looked suspiciously like… a disgruntled hedgehog? The spirit was dressed in a tattered bathrobe, holding a cup of what smelled like day-old coffee. His eyes glowed with the rage of someone who had been awoken from a deep nap. "Who the hell are you?" the hedgehog grumbled. "I—uh, we… summoned you?" Gornick stammered. "Aren't you the Great Spirit of the Forest?" The hedgehog scoffed. "Great Spirit? I’m Frank. And this better be good, because I was in the middle of something important." He sipped his coffee with an expression that said he clearly wasn't buying any of Gornick's nonsense. Lilith snorted, "Well, looks like your foolproof spell just summoned Frank, the slightly cranky hedgehog." Gornick’s face turned a shade of beetroot. "Okay, okay, I admit this is not what I expected. But I can fix this!" He flipped furiously through his spellbook. "Aha! Here we go. This should give us something... bigger!" With a wave of his hand and a chant that sounded suspiciously like someone gargling rocks, Gornick cast another spell. This time, the ground split open, and from the fissure, out crawled a… giant turnip with eyes. It blinked slowly, then looked at Frank. "This… is my cousin," Frank said flatly. "Turny. You’ve summoned a turnip." The enormous vegetable let out a low groan, then belched, filling the air with the smell of compost and rotting leaves. Gornick waved his hands frantically. "Wait, wait, I can fix this!" Lilith was laughing hysterically at this point, nearly falling off Gornick’s lap. "Oh, please don’t. This is the best entertainment I’ve had in centuries!" As Gornick tried to conjure another spell, Turny the turnip had already started wreaking havoc, flattening trees with its massive root-like arms, while Frank the hedgehog looked on in complete disinterest. "I’m gonna need more coffee," Frank muttered before strolling off into the woods, completely unbothered by the chaos. Gornick finally gave up, tossing the spellbook aside. "Well, this is a fine mess," he sighed, watching as Turny knocked over an ancient oak tree with a loud thud. Lilith, wiping away tears of laughter, patted his arm. "You know what, Gornick? Never change. Life with you is like living in a bizarre fever dream." "Yeah, well, at least it's never boring," Gornick grinned. And so, as the turnip rampaged through the forest and Frank disappeared into the mist, Gornick and Lilith sat together, watching the absurdity unfold, content in their strange, magical world where nothing ever went quite as planned—and that’s exactly how they liked it.     If you enjoyed this whimsical tale and the enchanting image of Gornick the Gnome and Lilith, you can bring the magic home! Prints, merchandise, digital downloads, and licensing for the artwork are available at our gallery here. Explore a wide range of options to add a touch of woodland magic to your collection!

by Bill Tiepelman

Spells, Pumpkins, and Gnome Mischief

In the heart of the haunted hollow, there sat a gnome. Not just any gnome—this was Garvin, the self-proclaimed “Master of Spells” and “Pumpkin Aficionado.” Spoiler alert: he was terrible at both. Garvin wasn’t your typical, cutesy lawn gnome. No, no. This one had big plans. With his oversized witch’s hat, adorned with fake flowers he stole from Mrs. Willowbottom’s garden, and his broom that had never swept a thing in its life, Garvin was ready to cause some mischief. Or at least, that was the plan. “Alright, pumpkin,” he muttered under his breath, glaring at the jack-o'-lantern next to him, which glowed a bit too cheerfully for his taste. “Tonight’s the night we make magic happen.” The pumpkin didn’t respond. It was a pumpkin, after all. Garvin huffed. “You know, some witches get a talking cat. I get...you. A vegetable with a face. Great.” The broom next to him seemed to mock his lack of witchy credibility. But it wasn’t the broom’s fault that Garvin hadn’t quite mastered the whole “flying” thing. Or sweeping, for that matter. He gave it a kick for good measure. It did nothing, of course. With a dramatic flourish, he waved his hands, trying to summon something spooky, something powerful. “Abra...kadabra?” He paused, frowned. “Wait, no. Alaka-zam? Oh, whatever.” Nothing happened. Well, aside from a gust of wind that knocked over a nearby stack of firewood. Real spooky stuff. Frustrated, Garvin leaned back against the pumpkin and crossed his arms. “I’m starting to think this whole witchy gnome business is overrated. Do you know how much this stupid hat itches? And don't even get me started on these striped socks. They're cutting off circulation.” The pumpkin glowed, casting a warm light on Garvin’s disgruntled face. For a moment, the gnome just stared at it. Then, with a sigh, he nudged it again. “Look at you, all smug with your perfect little glowing grin. Bet you’re really proud of yourself, huh?” Suddenly, a bat flew overhead, casting a shadow across the moonlit yard. Garvin flinched, then quickly composed himself, pretending he hadn’t just jumped out of his skin. “Oh, yeah. That’s real original. A bat. On Halloween. Didn’t see that coming.” He rolled his eyes. But as the bat disappeared into the night, Garvin allowed a small smirk to creep across his face. Maybe tonight wasn’t so bad after all. After all, it was Halloween—a night for witches, gnomes, and all sorts of spooky mishaps. He picked up his broom, not to fly it (let’s not kid ourselves), but to lean on it like a walking stick. “Alright, pumpkin,” he said, “let’s go see if we can find some candy to ‘borrow.’ After all, if I can’t conjure magic, I can at least conjure up a sugar rush.” And with that, Garvin, the most sarcastic, spell-challenged gnome in the haunted hollow, shuffled off into the night, ready to cause just the slightest bit of mischief... or at least get his hands on some chocolate. The pumpkin, as usual, said nothing.     Bring Home the Mischief! Love Garvin the gnome and his magical, sarcastic adventures? Why not invite him into your home! Whether you're decorating for the spooky season or just want a quirky reminder of Halloween mischief, we’ve got you covered. Choose from a variety of products featuring "Spells, Pumpkins, and Gnome Mischief": Framed Prints – Add a touch of gnome magic to your walls with this beautifully framed print! Tapestries – Drape your space in whimsical charm with a cozy tapestry of Garvin and his pumpkin companion. Greeting Cards – Share the fun with friends and family with gnome-inspired Halloween greeting cards. Stickers – Slap some spooky, gnome-filled goodness on your laptop, notebook, or anywhere that needs a dash of Halloween fun! Embrace the enchantment with a touch of sarcasm – Garvin wouldn’t have it any other way!