Henry 🦛

It’s not often that I see something that i really want but definitely don’t need! We have a house full of ‘things’ collected over the years or inherited by family. My father was an artist so our walls are full of his paintings and the few pieces of artwork we’ve chosen or inherited.

A few weeks ago we went on a very rare coach outing. Being retired we have the opportunity to go out during the week but seldom join other pensioners on day trips, preferring to do our own thing. This trip sounded interesting so I persuaded my husband come with me.

Our first visit was to the British Ironworks Centre. We presumed that it would be an educational trip with lunch afterwards. It’s advertised as the only company in the U.K. to make art and sculptures using waste materials. They are also the only Centre to be unveiled twice by a member of the Royal Family. They have over 90 acres of land to display their works of art and for the paying public to explore. The weather was a usual grey, wet summer’s day so not conducive to wandering around outside. We had hoped to see where they worked and examples of how and what they recycled but this was not on the agenda.

Driving into the grounds we were met with some spectacular sculptures. They ranged from super heros to animals and insects, leaving us in awe of the exemplary workmanship and sheer size of the exhibits. The indoor showroom was cram packed with trinkets and more artwork and sculptures. Most of our fellow travellers made their way to the already heaving restaurant to find a table and enjoy the delicious lunch on offer.

Not my husband and I. With umbrella at the ready I followed him outside. There was a menagerie of animals, herds of deer, stags, pigs, dogs and some hippos. We both love hippos! ! The one that caught my eye wasn’t life size but a caricature of one. It had a huge head and smaller body and was about three feet long two feet high and eighteen inches wide. And it looked as if it weighed a ton!

When my husband left South Africa he bought himself a cast marble statue of a hippo, much smaller, which was named Henrietta. She proudly sits on our coffee table in the living room and is much admired. Years ago friends kidnapped Henrietta and posted a ransom letter through our door. I found this amusing but my husband was not impressed! He threatened serious retribution if the hippo was damaged in any way! The stunt pulled in a moment of alcohol fuelled high jinks didn’t go down at all well!

Looking at the hippo that day in the rain and biting wind I had a big smile on my face and chuckled to my husband.

‘Imagine looking at that every day. It would really lift my spirits and bring a smile to my face. He’s really cute!’ And I named him Henry. I could tell that my husband was not as enamoured with Henry as I was but that didn’t deter my enthusiasm.

‘Look, love’, I said. He’s on the sale.

‘Where would you put it’ came his disinterested reply?

‘That’s easy. He’d love your fern garden’!

Now my husband’s fern garden is his pride and joy. He has two spectacular tree ferns and a number of other ferns in a rockery which he built then expanded last year. This is the one part of the garden that I leave alone. It’s his domain and a woman free zone! I waited for his explosive response. There wasn’t one. So I bravely continued.

‘Imagine waking up to that face every morning. It certainly would cheer me up and you know that a happy wife is a happy life! You’ve mentioned that often enough!’

Silence.

You’re very fond of Henrietta who lives inside. We’d have a Henry who’d live outside! A most unusual garden feature don’t you think?’

I’d lost him so we moved on. But I hadn’t given up. ‘Softly softly catchee monkey!’

I was glad that I hadn’t made an impulse buy so thought that giving myself time to think about it was very sensible. Unfortunately Henry had got under my skin and wasn’t budging. I went on line to see if there was a photo of him to remind my husband so that we could revive the conversation. I couldn’t find one. I also felt the need to justify the purchase as he was quite expensive. I couldn’t justify buying Henry but that didn’t deter me either!

The next week I used my powers of persuasion and Henry became a topic of conversation at our evening meals. I suggested we wander over to the fern garden and see if there was somewhere Henry could live. The discussion continued most evenings.

Now I’m not really sure if I won my husband over or, out of sheer desperation, he gave in for peace and quiet, but we did get Henry. Bigger and heavier than we’d imagined. My husband managed, by using his engineering skill and brute strength, to manoeuvre Henry off the pallet left on our driveway, tied him onto his sack barrow and wheeled him carefully to the back garden. He then had to haul Henry over a large rock and on to a stone slab. He did this while I was having tea in Tarporley with friends so wasn’t able to offer any help or advice. Not that I’d have had any sensible advise or muscle power to make any difference!

When I returned from my outing I rushed around to the fern garden. There was Henry, his big head peering out from behind a fern, nicely settled in and looking smug.

He makes me smile every time I look at him. I’m sure he’ll do the same for friends and family. Sometimes a bit of frivolity is not a bad thing. In this world where violence seems to be the order of the day, a harmless hippo residing in a fern patch at the bottom of a garden in Cheshire certainly won’t be doing anyone any harm! 👠