Sand, surf and Cedric

Sometimes I am guilty of judging a gnome by his coveralls. Who woulda thunk that Cedric would have a most delightful time in Barbados?

Just because he's hundreds of years old, has a rather complex facial-hair schema and insists on wearing his little pointy hat at all times, doesn't mean he's not a surfer dude at heart.

Cedric frolicked with sea turtles, knocked back lime-flavoured rum dacquiris and gnawed on coconut, straight from (inside) the shell.

His only unfortunate encounter involved that bottle of Bajan hot sauce I happened to leave open. He will never mistake the stuff for maple syrup again. I really must teach him to read.

A new kinda Pisa topping

Thanks gang. Leuven? More like leavin'! I located Cedric in Brussels face down on a waffle, slurping maple syrup. The chagrined gnome and I hopped on the first plane to Italy.

Cedric agreed to accompany me upon learning we'd visit the leaning tower of Pisa en route to Florence. However, he was mightily disappointed to discover the famous landmark was not made of tasty tomato-and-cheese pies.

The ingrate. It was all I could do to refrain from dropping him off the tower in a recreation of Galileo's gravity experiments.

Since you asked, Woodsy...

Cedric seems to have slipped away. He is now taunting me by sending photos of himself in foreign locations!

I'm not even sure where he is half the time... perhaps you can send this down to the ESI lab and identify his location in the latest picture?

Summertime's small pleasures

Drippy weather didn't stop Cedric from enjoying a week at a cottage in the idyllic Gatineaus. He even made a new friend who calls himself the head gaffer and drinks a lot of herbal tea. I'm glad the little troll is having a good summer, but I'm not crazy about him hanging around Hollywood film-biz types.

Now that Bluesfest is over ...

Cedric would like to apologize for:

(*) Knocking the cell phone out of that young woman's hands during a beer run

(*) Drooling on Neko Case

(*) The "mustard" incident

(*) Climbing Joe Cocker

No place like gnome

Cedric celebrated Canada Day by hanging a patriotic banner in the window of ESI European headquarters in Florence.

All is peaceful today. But not so last night.

The tiny troll had a run-in with the carbinieri after guzzling a bit too much maple syrup. Seems he tried to climb the faux David statue outside the Palazzo Vecchio, alarming passersby.

Having discovered what a poor climber he is, I think the syrup is now stashed safely out of his miniscule reach.

Room service? Send up Cirque du Soleil!

Cedric may be small but he knows some big rollers. For instance,
Prince Al-Waleed bin Talal bin Abdul Aziz Al Saud, the world's 20th-richest person and co-owner of the Fairmont Hotel chain.

Seems Cedric met the prince when they were fellow master's students at Syracuse University. The budding billionaire took a liking to the little guy, who picked up some extra cash by faithfully shining the royal Mercedes.

The prince never forgot, and presented Cedric with a Christmas gift: a cross-country tour of Fairmont digs that recently took us to Toronto, Montreal and Vancouver.

Cedric let me come along, but I drew the line at calling him Your Highness. After all, he's a dwarf.

Root, root for the gnome team

Cedric attended the very first Cubs home opener at Chicago's Wrigley Field (then known as Weeghman Park) back in 1916.

After his favourite team lost the championship to the Boston Red Sox in 1918, the pint-sized fan vowed never to return to the ivy-covered shrine until the Cubs won the World Series.

But he couldn't wait forever. After all, the tiny guy's life expectancy is only another 126 years.

Cedric enjoyed his return to Wrigley on the weekend, watching his beloved Cubs down the L.A. Dodgers, nibbling on hotdogs and slurping a brew or two.

He's no slouch on the field, either. Cedric had the highest on-base percentage during his two seasons in the 1920s with Blue White Amsterdam of the Dutch Baseball Union. His secret? Pitchers walked him almost every time because his strike zone was -- and still is -- only one centimetre.

Llama dramarama, part four: the mouth-watering conclusion

What better way to forget your troubles than a trip to stunning Machu Picchu? Unless, of course, the place is lousy with llamas and you happen to have a morbid fear of the ankle-biting Andean amblers.

After pointed accusations from Cedric ("You knew there would be llamas here, didn't you?!") and several lengthy apologies from me ("I will personally hand-wash your little red hat every night for the next month!"), Cedric calmed down and began to relax.

Especially once he realized no health-conscious llama would ever eat a centuries-old gnome with flat feet and wooden teeth.

Next we work on Cedric's fear of John Baird's hair ... Oh, right, that's my unending phobia ...

Llama dramarama, part three

After a few hours with the photo during our Cusco sojourn, Cedric got used to the idea of being around an actual llama.

So we clambered down four flights of stairs (a lengthy procedure for Cedric) and the tiny troll calmly posed for this photo. I barely had the heart to tell him it wasn't a real llama.

Still, Cedric considered it a step forward. He really is a glass-half-full kind of gnome.

Llama dramarama, part two

Cedric and I have spent a couple of days talking about llamas and alpacas. It is the first step in my plan to help the little gnome get over his fear of the four-legged Andean creatures.

Today we made a major breakthrough: Cedric was able to look at a photo of a llama without shivering violently, falling over or vomiting.

It helps that the tiny man loves to sing: Alpaca-p my troubles in my old kit bag ... (whistling follows).

Cedric thinks he is so clever.

Dolls and a Mayor

Cedric, meet my Peruvian dolls. They are over 45 years old, hand knit and stuffed with llama wool.

Knitters, click on the image to enlarge and take note of the incredible workmanship and attention to detail.

On a completely different note, I stood a few inches away from our Mayor today. He is definitely not prettier in person. Aggie asked me what he smells like...

On the llama

Sometimes the best way to get over one's fears is to confront them directly. Cedric's longstanding trepidation about llamas, not to mention alpacas, has led us to Lima, Peru.

That and the little gnome's love of salsa dancing, pisco sours and the general hustle and bustle of urban South America.

We have not yet spotted one of the four-legged woolly creatures that give Cedric the night sweats. But I have assured the small one, we most certainly soon will...

Will the gnome roam to Nome or Rome?

I am happy to report my new travelling companion is cute, looks good in red, and is up for just about anything.

I am less enthusiastic to note said companion is a 203-year-old gnome named Cedric with a fondness for homemade brew and a pronounced dislike of cats.

A Christmas present, Cedric came with explicit instructions that I must:

1. Take him wherever I go.
2. Photograph him.
3. Blog about his travels.

Cedric's maiden trip was a holiday jaunt to Sharbot Lake, Ontario, where he got a taste of country air and deftly avoided being eaten by a wolverine.

I suspect Cedric is a bit of a ladies gnome. He was in town scant hours before making the acquaintance of an unidentified female gnome (a century or so his senior) who hails from a small Dutch village.

And to think I was counting on him to be my wingman.