Patina

I took a holiday recently at St Oswald's retreat centre and community in Sleights, near Whitby. It's run by some friends of mine and is an ordered and peaceful place, with a steady rhythm of days. In the two years since taking it over, they have put a lot of care into refreshing the decor and making it a really attractive and comfortable haven. The main corridor to my room had warm brown walls (probably a Farrow and Ball heritage shade like 'Mouse's Back' or something). It's a colour I would perhaps not normally like, but somehow it looked just right. The corridor had a 'dog-leg' turn in it and, on the facing wall, this beautiful panel of carved wood was displayed, illuminated by a small picture-light. I enquired about its provenance. They told me they had found it abandoned in the garage! It had a hinge and appeared to be the lid of a chest, the door of an armoire or something similar. It was filthy and dusty so my friend had painstakingly cleaned it with a toothbrush to remove the grime and then polished it to bring out the lovely patina. 

I was much taken with this panel. I don't know how old it is, but the craftmanship that went into making it is obvious. There is usually something really attractive about old wood, whether a fine carved object like this or a rough, natural piece. If cared for, it often gets better and more beautiful with age. I wonder if the same is true of us? 

We have not been a family that have handed down many treasures through the generations. Truthfully, most of my ancestors were poor and would not even have had possessions worth handing on. When my great aunt died, I accepted her old drop-arm sofa, covered in an unattractive dull brown mock leather. It made a useful perch in my first apartment, until I amassed enough savings to upgrade to a more modern and functional piece that could be used as a spare bed when friends came to stay. The old sofa was snapped up (free!) by a workmate of mine, which puzzled me until I saw it in their house, reupholstered in a luxurious cherry red velvet and looking quite splendid! I also acquired a huge and heavy chest of drawers from my paternal grandparents. For many years it was the repository of most of my clothing. I can't even recall what happened to that! I suspect it too was thrown out in favour of a smart and more modern 'bedroom upgrade'. I find now, as I have grown older and perhaps a little wiser and more appreciative, that I regret losing these two family links - though I doubt that the requisite gene for valuing and holding on to family heirlooms has appeared or been passed on in the family. Perhaps, like shopping in charity shops, it is something that you either have to be poorer and need to do, or somewhat richer so that it becomes something quirky and valued, with the cachet of sustainability.