The Restory Retreat Centre

Whipping up a batch of lavender hand cream in a  self made mixing bowl. Photo by Matilda I love Herbs. Nearly as much, or most likely just as much as I like Clay. They are after all, each their own person, deserving of my love and attention. For now though, with no dedicated studio space to spend time with Clay, my creative liaison is with Herbs and we enjoy many a pleasant hour together in the kitchen and garden. Even so, clay and herbs are of the same earth that speaks deeply to my soul. Both tactile, versatile, sensuous and alive with sun drenched energy, they lift my spirit in no time. I read that our sense of smell plays an important part in our emotional well being. Fragrance travels via our olfactory nerves directly to the area in our brain that deals with emotions. I just have to think of the nostalgia that surges through me when I smell pancakes with cinnamon to know this is true. I do believe that the fragrance of the rose geranium speaks directly to my creative ce...

A lush portion of our vegetable garden Our first winter in this valley is fast approaching. I watch with hawk eyes for signs of frost. My young Zulu helpers and I had gotten carried away when we started the vegetable patch and once the first little seedlings raised their heads late January, there were no end to what we tried to crowd into the beds. Never before in my life have I had such perfect conditions to realize a dream: to have a kitchen garden. Winter seemed far off. I now know that most of what grows so abundantly at the moment, had been planted or sown too late in the growing season. We will not see the pumpkins maturing and even the strawberries have trouble blushing up their fruit. I'm not even sure that they ought to be fruiting at the moment! The gooseberry and tomato trellises are covered in frost cloth. I am hoping to at the very least get most of the beautiful bunches of cocktail tomatoes to ripen on the vine before the frost claims my beloved annuals. I han...

A view of the "Rocks", the "Ruins" and the Vegetable and Herb garden.  Ever since we arrived here, I knew I would regret not journaling more diligently about our settling-in days. But most evenings found us dead beat. So much had to be done, so much happened! I am sorry I didn’t journal each and every day. But here we are on the evening of Day 77 at Barrowfield. Better late than never. On Day 75 our landlady, whom we had met only briefly once before, paid us a surprise visit. She arrived just as we discovered that our water tank had at last filled to overflowing. (See the post  Finally! ) I was trying to take a picture of this momentous occasion and George suggested that he stand under the overflow with an umbrella to demonstrate the marvel. So there we were, standing in the veld, he, clad in his blue worker’s overalls and holding a large umbrella, and I, sporting gumboots and camera. I’m not sure what she thought of this spectacle, but we cut short the ph...