Creative writing submission from the Rest Less community – submit your entry here.
When out with my friend on Wednesday, visiting Christchurch Hospital, we popped into Haskins to treat ourselves to a naughty cheese scone and a cup of coffee. Whilst there, I wanted to show her the life-size, fox sculpture I had coveted for my garden.
Outside we found it but to my surprise, when I moved it slightly to look at the eye-watering price tag, it was apparent that one of his legs had broken off and that he’d been dropped and scraped along one side. Umm, I thought, an opportunity, as on further inspection he had some nasty cracks and I knew they couldn’t sell a three-legged, cracked and scuffed fox for the price asked.
To cut a long story short, I made a very cheeky offer and continued to persuade the manager that, as they couldn’t sell him as is, they should bite off my hand, as what idiot would buy a cracked and damaged item with three legs?
After a bit of haggling, he succumbed to my entreaties and agreed to my price. Feeling very smug indeed (my friend called me jammy), we brought him home and I spent yesterday repairing and repainting him to go out into my garden.
This is the second time I’ve embarked upon an interesting repair but my first foray into such territories was far more dramatic…
As a child, I vividly remember visiting an elderly lady friend of my grandmother’s and being entranced by two large, ceramic elephant plant stands in her conservatory. They seemed so exotic and foreign, hinting at far-off places and other cultures. You used to see them everywhere – often in Indian restaurants – but, in truth, despite their then popularity, I don’t think I’d seen them anywhere for years. It was as though they’d fallen out of fashion and were now deemed as somewhat kitsch.
Anyway, if you’ve seen pictures of my garden, you’ll know it’s a bizarre mix of eclectic strangeness – and browsing a popular online auction site a couple of years ago, I came upon one of these elephants. He was a large version and I felt he would be perfect in my garden and remind me of my grandmother. I decided to bid and won.
Delighted, I awaited his arrival, yet, when the box arrived, despite 10 tonnes of bubble wrap and packing, I was faced with a pile of bits! The head, bottom, and one side of the elephant were, though badly cracked, still holding together but the other side was just a pile of bits. Obviously, my money was returned to me – but, as I went to turf all the pieces into the bin, I had a thought, what did I have to lose?
Four weeks later – my dining room having been completely taken over by plaster cast bandages, Polyfilla, Japanese tissue, fine chicken wire, various glues and paints – I’d managed to stabilise the cracks from the inside. Once secure, I botched and rebuilt the whole of one side using Polyfilla on a cardboard and chicken wire frame to replace large areas where the pottery just didn’t exist any more.
When it was eventually rebuilt and dry, I used my outdoor paints to copy the remaining side onto the white-created base. I’m really very pleased with the result and take the view that, if he fell apart tomorrow, I’ve given him three more years of life, having risen from the ashes so to speak!
I love old, antique things, always have, and am drawn to their stories and past lives, so I have this strange feeling that these things – these damaged objects – are meant to come my way and fall into my lap. I’m not crafty nor do I have any particular skills but I possess a great deal of empathy for broken treasures and am drawn to certain projects if I believe I can help. I hold the view that, as I’ve nothing to lose, why not?!
Every time I look at my elephant in the garden or rest my coffee cup on his back, he makes me smile. He doesn’t just remind me of my grandmother and the army of old ladies that she’d been in service with and that she would take me to visit, he also reminds me that I can achieve things I didn’t know I could. That if you challenge yourself, you’ll be amazed at what you can do.
Anyway, my broken fox has now joined my bionic elephant (not literally) in the garden to brighten my days and make me smile. That said, whilst he sat on my kitchen table – his repairs drying overnight – twice he made me jump out of my wits as I came upon him in the dark, forgetting he was there. This too makes me laugh and adds to my pleasure; so lifelike is he!
When I popped him outside the next day and my dog Ila came upon him, like me, he made her jump. I couldn’t blame her, he’d had the same effect on me and I’d put him there!
I have to wonder what’s next. What else will call to me and challenge my abilities? Who knows…but that’s part of the fun!
Are you feeling creative? We are proud to have a hugely talented community on Rest Less, which is why we’re so excited to open up a section of the site dedicated to showcasing the wonderful and diverse writing of our members. If you have a piece of creative writing that you’d like to share with the Rest Less community – you can do so here.