Chev

I am a man of simple tastes. Give me sight of a beguiling smile, visions of a ‘Six bottles of wine for the price of Five’ sale sign, or the sound of a woman saying, “Ok, Gary, I’ll rescind my restraining order application!” and I’m in clover.

For most of my adult life I barely procured trinkets and gifts for myself. With four mouths to feed and a desire to put something away for a rainy day I had greater priorities to consider than mere material self-indulgence.

The only real treat I afforded myself during my children’s fledgling years were musical CD’s. Any new clothing was attained as birthday and Christmas gifts; my shoes acquired courtesy of elves and the shoemaker. The latter kindly making my footwear gratis. They were both two left feet, meaning I wasn’t as sure footed as I’d have liked, however as many old girlfriend of mine would proffer “Beggars can’t be choosers!”

In the current zeitgeist, though, with only himself to provide for, GJ Strachan has become less thrifty. Allowing himself some of the indulgences spurned during his 20’s, 30’s and 40’s. Satiations augmenting my brio levels; causing me to reflect my decades of sacrifices have been worth it.

However, it is not just about fiscal circumstances that have changed as I’ve matured. Middle age has instilled in me a greater appreciation of the creative and quirky. One such acknowledgement of creative splendour witnessing a recent purchase of a sculpted horses head. Or ‘orses ‘ead as my beau Sarah would call it in her broad West Yorkshire dialogue.

Carrying this almost to scale horses head back from the store initially triggered memories of the gruesome scene in ‘The Godfather’ movie where character Jack Woltz finds one in his bed. The gory discovery his punishment for refusing to cast Don Corleone’s godson in one of his movies.

Such thoughts, though, were fleeting. After seating the piece on a coffee table, the sculpture of this majestic animal captivating me to such an extent I felt almost moved to pat its snout, while proffering it a chirpy “Good boy.”

Footnote – That is if it is a boy… As I have only got the head, I’ve no idea of its gender… I did not look with any great tenacity, however, I did not notice a sculpture of a horse’s widge among the stores other stock items. And even if I had, a) it might not be this horses, and b) I’d have been disinclined to add the ornament to my collection.

Sarah has been around horses (sorry, I mean ‘orses) for most of her life. Until the last few years, the Ossett lass owning one; her daughters still do. Kayleigh and Katelan’s equine companions going by the name Charlie and Fendi… Although, Katelan idiosyncratically sits the wrong way round on Fendi’s saddle so she doesn’t get too far before being jettisoned.

Despite mine clearly not being real, he makes such a statement I’ve afforded him the moniker, Chev; short for cheval (the French for horse). His head providing such a focal point in the room, I spend as much time staring at him as I do the nearby TV… However, I am unsure whether that is a consequence of the sculpture’s splendour or whether I need to start watching TV shows that interest me!

Welcome to chez Strachan, Chev, you magnificent beast!