The Restory Retreat Centre

Eerste foto van die klein kaper deur Matilda Angus Woensdag is dorpdag hier by ons. Dan vertrek ek redelik vroeg Newcastle toe om die week se kruideniers te kry en ander besigheid te doen. Dis 'n hele 45 km soontoe, waarvan so 16 km grondpad is. Ek ry dit versigtig met my laaglopende Volkswagen Polo. Die bande is ook maar nie geskik vir hierdie tipe paaie nie. Ek voel dikwels soos 'n Victoriaanse dame wat haar onderrokke hoog wil oplig om met haar kant slippertjies versigtig tussen die klippers deur te trap. Die oorblywende 29km is teerpad en dan maak ek op vir verlore tyd. Gewoonlik stop ek so binne 'n halfuur na vertrek voor Checkers by Amajuba Mall. Hierdie Woensdag was nie anders nie, behalwe dat ek gekaap is. Dit is met die stop by die kraletjiewinkel dat twee vroue, wat buite die winkel staan, my inlig dat hulle 'n kat in my kar, meer spesifiek, in die enjinholte, hoor huil het toe ek daar stilhou. Ek skrik my boeglam, sien nare voorspooksels van my Mi

The road leading to Barrowfield. Photograph by Ralie du Preez At one stage, while renovating our bathroom, we had no bath, basin or shower. After a day’s work we took our toiletries, went over to Johan and Debbie, our neighbours, and cleaned up. One evening I washed myself in a bucket under the stars. For outsiders it might have looked as if everything was in a shambles with little hope of a decent result or at least a returning order. All we needed was a sign reading, “Under Construction”.  Spiritually I have use for such a sign as well. I am under construction. For years now, I haven’t found nourishment in business as usual where religion was concerned. All the traditional pillars that held that roof in place became stumbling blocks for me instead. I experienced it as being: - sentimental, - fear-based,  - rooted in a sense of merit despite the lip service given to terms like grace and the love of God,  - separated from dai