Steamed Puddings

My father made this rocking horse for me when I was an infant. There is a famous picture in which a year old-ish me is riding the horse in footy pyjamas. My mother’s antique Pfaff sewing machine is visible in a corner of my parents’ Stuttgart quarters.

I think the horse was around the house when I was an older child, but was given to my aunt Kathleen when my cousins were born. They’re about 8-12 years younger than me. When Kiwiman and I were in the US for our wedding reception, I received a giant UPS box from Aunt Kathleen which turned out to contain the rocking horse. It was such a neat present to receive!

Kiwiman and I disassembled the horse for the first time in nearly 30 years and scattered the pieces within our luggage to bring it back to New Zealand with us. For a few years, the pieces were sitting in a cardboard box just waiting for some attention. This year, in a flurry of post-PhD house projects, I had intended to sand the horse so we could put it back together. I didn’t have a lot of time to do this, though, so Kiwiman took over the sanding and did a great job stripping off the original dark brown varnish. Hugo contributed, too, by helping to bolt the neck back to the body after we cracked it during the disassembly.

Finally, after priming, arguing about colors, painting, and soaking the original cracked leather pieces in linseed oil, the horse is now (nearly) complete and ready for a new generation of riders. I think Kiwiman has taken a lot of pride in his sanding and paintwork (as he should!) and I’m touched that he has added his own stamp onto this handcrafted hand-me-down from my side of the family.