The Restory Retreat Centre

Jasper, the Border Collie, at the river Photograph by George Angus You are the giver of all good things. All good things are sent from heaven above, rain and sun, day and night, justice and righteousness, bread to the eater and seed to the sower, peace to the old, energy to the young, joy to the babes. We are takers, who take from you, day by day, daily bread, taking all we need as you supply, taking in gratitude and wonder and joy. And then taking more, taking more than we need, taking more than you give us, taking from our sisters and brothers, taking from the poor and the weak, taking because we are frightened, and so greedy, taking because we are anxious, and so fearful, taking because we are driven, and so uncaring. Give us peace beyond our fear, and so end our greed. Give us well-being beyond our anxiety, and so end our fear. Give us abundance beyond our drivenness, and so end our uncaring. Turn our taking into giving … since we are in your giving image: Make us giving like y

Photograph by Matilda Angus “When we build let us think we build forever. Let it not be for present delight nor for present use alone. Let it be such work that our descendants will thank us for, and let us think, as we lay stone upon stone, that a time is to come when these stones will be held sacred because our hands have touched them, and that men will say, as they look upon the labor and wrought substance of them, "See! This our fathers did for us." ~ John Ruskin ~  v  ~ “Do all your work as though you had a thousand years to live, and as you would if you knew you must die tomorrow.” ~ Mother Ann Lee, founder of the Shaker movement Our house was built in 1910. Which leads to a number of interesting experiences. People in their fifties who grew up in the surrounding area would ask us, “Can we come and look at the old house again, please?” And when they come, they walk from room to room, eyes tear-filled as childhood memories flood back. “As children

Aaah, tea and guilt-free rusks! Photo by Matilda Angus Years ago I tried to go the gluten-free route with children prone to food allergies. It was very difficult. Especially to provide the kind of comfort food they were accustomed to. Simple things, like a buttermilk rusk with early morning coffee, were near impossible to accomplish. My attempts were met with frank honesty. "I think I'll rather go without rusks, Mom. These taste like wood chips," my daughter said. But with the healthy food revolution, a lot has changed, and I am grateful every time I open a packet of gluten-free flour mix that will produce pancakes or muffins that can hardly be distinguished from their wheat counterparts. With that said, the perfect buttermilk rusk has still been eluding me, though I have tried and tested many recipes. Yesterday, I was at it again. And this morning, when I dunked the oven-dried rusk into my tea I felt a little like Eliza Doolittle in My fair Lady must have when

Photograph by Matilda Angus In a recent post on The Restory Retreat Centre’s facebook page Matilda mentioned me cutting the lawn around the house with a tractor and slasher. During a very good rainy season it has to be done weekly. In dry years like the current one it is done once in two or three weeks. Aesthetically it keeps the yard neat, but on a practical level it also serves as a buffer around the house against snakes and other creatures. With grass touching the window sills, the wild will literally be on our doorstep. This cutting exercise is indeed prime thinking time. While busy doing it last week I thought of all things about grass. Despite the validity of the aesthetics and safety factors, there are times when I feel as if I’m betraying some primal element of our lifestyle here at Barrowfield while busy with the tractor and slasher. Gerard Manley Hopkins advised, “Leave the wildness and wet” and here I am actively busy not leaving it. To rub salt in the wounds I recent

In previous posts I wrote about the table I was busy restoring. After finishing the project in August last year I never got around to taking pictures of the final result. Shame on me! And as some of you recently asked about the project, Matilda took some pictures of it last week.  To recap: On arrival in the workshop ( Beauty longing ) A work in progress ( Beauty longing - Part 2 ) And finally Its place is in a dining room and not a chicken abattoir, don’t you think?  George