A Collecting Life: How It Started For Me
Donna Mills writes about how her passion for collecting books and pottery first began.
Press the play button below to listen to Donna Mills reading this article:
Confession: I'm a collector by nature, but I have to admit that both circumstances and nurture have increased that trait in me. Apparently, as a toddler, I used to ask "most politely, but most insistently," said my mother, for a new Ladybird book (still marked in pre-decimal coinage at that stage) every time I was wheeled in my pushchair into the local newsagent which had a revolving display dedicated to that series. I particularly loved their rhyming stories, and they were probably my very first book collection. I loved the rhythm of the rhyming verses and the attractive illustrations in Smoke and Fluff and Downy Duckling etc are still bright in my memory. Any passing grownup was inveigled to read them aloud to me, and before too long I'd memorised the words and would recite them proudly to all and sundry!
Then I discovered Enid Blyton's Famous Five and various school and adventure stories at the library. Gradually I saved my pocket money and begged for book tokens for birthday and Christmas to buy the attractive sets of paperbacks available at that time. Sets and series soon became my delight: how exciting it was to realise stories often formed a numbered series, and you could buy all 20 or 30 or even 50 of them if you were patient and also went to as many jumble sales as possible in the vicinity. Fortunately, in those days, there were a lot of school and Church fetes and jumble sales in our corner of Dorset. And, I was usually able to persuade my mother and Auntie to accompany me to the more distant country ones "to find some books." Or, with strict instructions of what to ask for as my ticket to the bus conductor, to Keep My Pennies In My Pocket and Not To Speak to Strangers, to go alone to many held in local villages and suburbs on our bus route.
Church jumble sales gave me another passion which hasn't lasted, but in those days I loved brass rubbing and would check out the church next to the church hall, walking the aisles head down searching for a suitable brass to rub so that I could kneel and eagerly rub away with a piece of paper and coloured chalk stored in my always-present satchel.
Brass rubbing in turn led me to a love of those old churches (often with Victorian "improvements"), a fascination with hymns (I always looked up the numbers of hymns in a handy hymnal and drank in their own brand of poetry) and kneelers: I looked eagerly for any unusually coloured or attractive examples and felt a bit cheated if they were all of the Plain Jane variety. Any wooden carvings in the choir stalls were both fascinating and occasionally a little frightening to me, but I loved the tactile feel of the wood as I patted them gently. I looked up at the stained glass windows and the vaulted roofs and drank in the quiet and peaceful atmosphere. I love visiting old churches to this day even if I no longer have any desire to rub brasses!
The scent and sight of those rather gorgeous flower arrangements by the ladies of the church (nearly always present in even the most modest of churches in my memories of those years in the early seventies) lifted my spirit. I noted any which were displayed in local "Poole Pottery" vases. My father was a mould maker for Poole Pottery in the sixties and seventies, and I knew enough to recognise many of the popular Poole shapes and designs. I had an "Auntie Irene" (a friend of my mum's) who worked as a painter at Poole, and I was allowed to examine (very carefully and with clean hands!) various Poole Pottery pieces (there were some particularly colourful ornaments, mugs, plates and vases and an enormous-to-me umbrella stand, I remember) while Mum and Auntie chatted away over tea and biscuits. Most of those pieces were seconds. My Dad had a kiln and many moulds and a wheel in our garage so I frequently watched him, throwing a pot or pouring slip and unstrapping a mould ready to fire a piece. His specialty was really large pottery flower baskets designed to hold spring bulbs and autumnal chrysanthemums in the garden.
Nearly all first quality Poole Pottery wares in those days were sent to airport shops at home and abroad, but many of the locals and visitors to Poole owned tea and dinner sets, mugs and vases, frequently picked up as seconds in the factory gift shop. It isn't perhaps surprising then, that I began to look out for pieces as a young adult in Canada and began to buy them for myself when I returned to visit family in Poole over the years, and then added even more from lucky charity shop finds when I moved again to Poole in 2005.
In 1977, that early book collection and most of my Mum and Dad's collection of Poole Pottery was given away or sold as we emigrated as a family back to my Dad's native Saskatchewan. There was only room for essentials in the boxes that were packed, and I realised that childhood books (and my rather gorgeous, dark wood bookcase with sliding glass doors) wouldn't be coming with us. I was 14 about to be 15 though and wasn't overly sad. A new life and new school in Canada was exciting and, I thought, I can always buy them again in jumble sales there. Of course, I did buy many of the Agatha Christie and golden age mysteries again. I discovered Georgette Heyer in the Regina library system and began to collect her in paperback. Whilst I didn't replace my childhood books at that stage, I began other book collections with enthusiasm. My Dad bought me another bookcase and put up shelves in the basement for my books. I realise now, that neither of my parents were in fact big readers at all, but were entirely supportive and indulgent even in my own passion for reading. It was "Donna's thing," and if my mother not infrequently mentioned that I should "get some fresh air," that came to mean I might like to read outside for a bit, not that I might enjoy a walk around the lake in the park or go on a bicycle ride.
In fact, it was only when I had Miranda that I seriously gave a thought to what books I had read as a child in England and what picture books I'd read to my two nieces (born when I was 9 and 12 years old). By then, of course, I had moved to France and children's books in an English language bookshop in nearby Geneva were priced in Swiss Francs and expensive treats, especially for a Physics Doctorate student's family managing on a very limited budget. The American Library in Geneva and the CERN mother and child book and jumble sales once again became of major importance!
I was determined that Miranda should have the best picture books I could find and eagerly studied lists, reading such classics as Dorothy Butler's Babies Need Books. Family members in Canada and Dorset responded to my requests for "book presents" for Miranda and sent lovely volumes. I discovered Blackwells' in Oxford on a trip to the UK (and their willingness to post abroad at a reasonable cost) and my Aunt sent me a Red House Book catalogue (now, sadly, long gone) and told me to choose some books for Miranda's bookshelves, and she would post them on to me from Dorset.
I wanted very badly to share the books that I had loved with Miranda, and, to my amazement, I realised I could still picture nearly every one of those books, their look, their covers and even their publishers when I started to write a master list in my journal. It was a start. And I went on to start a collection for her with a will. I encouraged her to help so that she soon became the one who scanned the lower shelves in secondhand bookshops for us! It became a joint passion and something we shared and loved together. Of course, other new collections ensued frequently inspired by Miranda's own interests and passions (Brambly Hedge, Branksome Pottery and Emma Bridgewater china any one?), but instead of one book and china collector in the family, it's definitely two. History has repeated itself with china and book collections similarly lost, sold or given away with moves and lack of space, but both of us have that pick yourself up, dust your shelves off and start all over again spirit!
*Note from Miranda: affiliate links are used for Blackwells. If you order a book from Blackwells using one of my affiliate links, I may make a small commission from your purchase, at no additional cost to yourself. I like to support Blackwells by linking to their website, as I’m a big fan of their flagship Oxford bookshop, and they offer reasonable overseas shipping. You in turn support my work by shopping through my affiliate link. Thank you!
Creative Challenge
Think back to your childhood: was there anything you enjoyed collecting then? Do you still enjoy a similar activity? If not, then perhaps something you used to enjoy in your early years might inspire a hobby or interest now.
What a lovely story Donna. I wasn’t able to start a book collection until recently as an adult. You could always find me at the local library though and books brought me great solace as I navigated through a one parent childhood when my parents split up. Thank you for sharing your story.
This is such a beautiful read (and listen!) - hearing how fellow bookworms come into their love of reading and book collecting is such a pleasure. Thank you for sharing your collecting story!