The Restory Retreat Centre

Photo by George Angus Covid-19 and 2020 are obviously now linked into eternity. But I’ll remember the winter of 2020 for my discovery of 2 things: -          A teapot cosy, and -          A hot water bottle Of course none of these are new inventions, or a novel product entering the market. It is not as if I’ve never seen it being used. Matilda has been preparing hot water bottles on going to bed for as long as I can remember and I grew up with a teapot cosy always somewhere in one of the drawers in the house. But during this winter everything changed. It became close and personal. As with most good things in my life, Matilda’s hand is quite prominent here as well.  On one particular cold morning, our 10h30 teapot appeared on the tray totally covered with a cosy (neither the spout nor handle could be seen). When I lifted that cover to pour our tea it was like the unveilin...

Garden Android back chairs Boksburg, Gauteng  ·  over a week ago  ·  R500 We make good furniture I’m browsing for two single beds to replace the double bed in one of our guest rooms. It being a room in a century + 9 year old house, I feel it is befitting to fit it out with something truly antique and beautiful. But cheap, in keeping with our non-existing budget for interior decorating. As luck would have it, old, solid and often antique furniture is not in vogue in South Africa and there are loads to choose from on the myriad of Classified sites and of course, facebook’s Marketplace. The prices are often really ridiculous and if I had the money, we would have a storeroom full of beautiful antique rocking chairs, solid oak headboards, antique dressers, wardrobes and an oddment of beautifully crafted chairs to die for. “Look at this!” I show George. "Can’t we make a garden gate out of this wrought iron bedste...

I don't know whether it's an Irish nursery rhyme, limerick or short poem, but it goes like this: There once were two cats of Kilkenny. Each thought there was one cat too many. So they fought and they fit, And they scratched and they bit, 'Til except for their nails, And the tips of their tails, Instead of two cats, There weren't any! We definitely do not have the two cats of Kilkenny. In the course of an ordinary day there is peace and harmony in the house with each of them sleeping in his or her own sunny spot. From time to time those sunny spots can even be very close to each other without any problem. But there are days when Patat is so little-brotherish that Mily becomes vocal the moment he enters the room. And he can be quite devious in the way he taunts her – innocently lying in the sun close to her and then stretching specifically in her direction to prod her in the side. It is just enough to be a nuisance and too little to be seen as harassment. However, sh...

Photograph by Matilda Angus His name is Monty. Actually Montgomery, but he is only addressed that way if he’s doing something a naughty Monty would do. I also call him “Montego Bay” or “Wille Waghond” (Afrikaans for wild guard dog). Sebastien calls him “Monkey dog”. About the size of a brick, maybe smaller, with a thimble mouth, he epitomizes chutzpah. He has taken the guard duty of Barowfield onto himself, being of the opinion that it was in a shambles when he arrived here about four months ago. At the slightest noise outside, he’ll run from door to door or jump onto the coach and then into the wide window sill to deliver his warning or to inspect. Among other things, 800 kg bulls are charged and snakes confronted. And he’ll end up with the juicy bone initially given to Jasper the Border collie and will protect it so ferociously that none of the bigger dogs will come near him. With absolutely nothing to his advantage or in his favor but attitude. The love of his life is...

Today I want to post the first in a series of poems on “today”. Lately they just came to me, so I have to listen. Let’s start at the basics. To all of us who are – or trying to be - so good, still model children – even at 50, always striving, pillars of the community, heavy-laden with the burden of Ought-to’s.  Today TODAY I will not live up to my potential. TODAY I will not relate well to my peer group. TODAY I will not contribute in class.   I will not volunteer one thing. TODAY I will not strive to do better. TODAY I will not achieve or adjust or grow enriched      or get involved.   I will not put my hand up even if the teacher is wrong      and I can prove it. TODAY I might eat the eraser off my pencil.      I’ll look at clouds.      I’ll be late.      I don’t think I’ll wash. I NEED A REST.           ...

I have somewhat of a problem. There are no hardwood merchants in any of the local towns within a 300 km radius. For one of my projects I make bases for the ceramic lamps Eylene, Matilda’s daughter, is creating. Fortunately I have a fairly large wood pile gathered over the years that provided most of what I needed, but the one particular base asked for something more bulky. While gently mulling over a few of my plans in getting the wood, I went on a Sunday picnic with Matilda and my father down at the stream running through the farm. There I discovered this huge old tree trunk, felled by a storm years ago. The following week I strolled down with the dogs and cut myself a nice piece of wood. Then I went home and turned the base. It looks real nice. This young tortoise comes home all bruised and battered. “What happened to you?” asks his mother. “I was at the club and on my way out I bumped into this snail. “Watch where you’re going!” I told him. Two of his friends meanwh...

Two old men go moose hunting in Canada. They arrange with the pilot who drops them off in a remote region to come and pick them up in a week’s time. After a week the pilot returns to find the two old hunters with a moose each. “I can’t take the two of you with the two moose” he tells them. “My plane won’t manage with the load. You’ll have to leave one moose behind.” “The pilot we hired last year said the same thing” they tell the pilot, “but after we’ve offered him a big tip he agreed and took the two of us and the two moose.” The three of them argue for several minutes more. Finally the pilot agrees to take both moose. With everything and everybody loaded the plane charges down the runway and with a shudder they have lift off barely missing the tree tops at the end of the runway. But try as he may, the pilot cannot gain height and has to make an emergency landing in a clearing. The two hunters, dazed and confused make their way out of the wreckage. One hunter looks at the other and ...

George worries about the strangest things. He asked me this morning: Do you think the dogs have settled in allright after the move here to Barrowfield? This is what came to my mind. "Oh, I think so," I said. Matilda

A man visits a monastery. At dinner he is served Fish and Chips, and they are delicious, the best he has ever eaten. He goes back into the kitchen to thank the cook, and finding someone there cooking, he asks "Are you the Fish Fryer?" To which the man replies, "No, I'm the Chip Monk".

Raphael - Sistine Madonna, Angels “D’you reckon Skipper’s got wings now?” somebody started up. “Suppose so”, came an answer. “Don’t fancy wings meself.” “Why’s that?” “How can you get yer shirt off?” “Don’t be daft, angels don’t have no shirts.” “Wot then?” “It’s a nightie.” “I ain’t gonna wear no nightie, it’s cissy.”                                                                 Fynn: Mister God, this is Anna

In an age where anxiety is rampant, despite all our developments and achievements, Edvard Munch’s painting The Scream almost acts as a society’s emblem. No wonder it sold for $120m at a Sotheby’s auction in New York last year.  Now I’m wondering: How did we get to the point where such a painting reflects our underlying mood? As I said, despite all our developments and achievements. What is lacking when we seem to have it all? And although I absolutely adore the painting, I find the price a bit too steep. How is it possible that somebody has so much money (In excess I might add. His/her other living expenses are apparently covered and he/she has a little something lying around to invest somewhere), while millions on the planet do not know where the next meal will come from? If ever. What is wrong with this picture? Pardon the pun! Edvard Munch was himself a troubled man. Suffering from insomnia, he would often book himself an overnight couchette to Oslo, as he f...

Here is a pen and here is a pencil, here's a typewriter, here's a stencil, here's a list of today's appointments, and all the flies in all the ointments, the daily woes that a man endures – take them, George, they're yours!                                                            Ogden Nash