Tempted by Things

My destination this morning was St Paul's Tongham (which I will post about another time), but this took me only a mile or two from Bourne Mill Antiques in Farnham. Once upon a time this, and the Bourne Buildings shed- and garden ornament-emporium next door, known for its splendid advertisements - 'Now Is the Winter of our Discount Sheds', one declared - could provide an entire morning or afternoon out, and I and Ms Formerly Aldgate did that more than once. Then in 2015 Bourne Mill caught fire. Five floors of cramped, timber-framed and tile-roofed rooms packed with stuff were left in a dreadful condition, and took more than four years to reopen: I began to fear it never would. I failed to make it there before the pandemic began, and then finding my way around Bourne Mill's convoluted arrangements trying to stay 2m away from anyone else didn't seem very attractive. So today has been my first trip back since the fire.

'It seems a lot tidier,' I told the woman at the desk who replied that she hoped that was the case. In particular the staircases used to be flanked with shelves and cubbyholes packed with books and junk and that is no longer the case. I suppose it will be some years before the dealers who use Bourne Mill manage to stuff it with unsold stock to the same dizzying level as before. Mind you I looked down one hallway which I didn't remember existing and saw a lamp in the shape of a duck lighting the dark corner so not all Bourne Mill's old surrealism has been lost.

There was a variety of Nice Things I would have been happy to give a home, though I have yet to discover the bust of General Gordon which is my dream find of many years' standing. But the appeal even of nice things has palled over the years and I resist filling my space with more stuff. But I did find this, which was inexpensive and has potential: a clock frame I presume, labelled on the inside AGDA. These are post-War German, apparently. I thought I could stick a mirror in it with some improving inscription about the illusory nature of existence.

This inspired me to do something about a little, battered watercolour I inherited from Dr Bones and which had travelled over the years our of her narrowboat into the boot of my car and then to the garage. I have always been rather fond of it though that fondness has only run to looking at it face-down in its metal frame on top of a dead car battery and thinking that I ought to do something about it. It's finally made it into a new frame, and into the bathroom!