The Santa Session

And so it came to be that Christmas was approaching, ACDC Christmas Rock & Roll was blasting through the Shopping Centre and the GRUMPS (Grey Rude Unhappy Miserable Parent'S) were muttering under their breath about how expensive things were. They also detested the ACDC music, afterall, the stores had been playing BoneyM and Panflute Christmas Tidings for the past 25 years, why change now! Hrmphff!

I queued for Santa with all the kids and hence drew strange looks from the parents, a little girl no older than 5 was in front of me and after staring at me for a full five minutes looked me in the eye and asked, "Where is your child"? I explained that they no longer believed in Santa and I was in the queue because I needed something from Santa. At this point her mother noticed we were chatting and moved her daughter away from me, I was given the same look Macaulay Culkin's parents first eyed Michael Jackson before vast amounts of money exchanged hands.
But did this stop the little girl, oh no. She stuck out her little hand and said, "Hello, I am Katy", I shook her hand and told her my name was Ted. Then I gave her a sweet, a sweet laden with LSD and she was hooked and died after selling her organ for drugs!!! The End!!

Well, not really. She asked why I wanted to see Santa, I told her that I needed to know what to do for Christmas, who needed a present and what did he think I should give them. She frowned a little and then looked at me and said, "A Teddy Bear or a Puppy cos no matter how scared or lonely you get, both would be there till you felt better". I thanked her and left.

You see my friends, jewellery and pretty things, even electronics age and become dated, a puppy will love you, always be happy to see you and grow with you. However, if you are unable to keep a dog, a Teddy will always be there for you no matter what. I am getting myself a Teddy for Christmas, it is my gift from Santa. Yes it is a 10 x 8cm tattoo of a battered bruised Teddy and it reminds me that despite all the trials we face, someone somewhere still needs and depends on us. Christmas is not about you, its about special family, friends and loved ones, so your obligation is to arrive and see who might need that hug or french kiss.

Nite All

It Approaches

It's a wonderful time of the year, well almost. School kids are already finished with school and the first "I am sooo bored" has already made its appearance. For parents, most of us are counting the days down until we are on holiday.

I have enjoyed Lesotho immensely and yet I welcome a break from it now, I need a shower everyday, I need water that I can drink and a break from fried mess hall food. Oh and the flies, the African Budgie, a beast so lazy and disgusting it pales in comparison to computer generated exes. They seem to send in wave upon wave of flying raisins and rest on all that is sacred and edible, definitely more irritating than a 2 year old throwing a tantrum in a shopping centre whilst Mommy dearest tries to reason with it. I use the term "it" because if it was any other species, the mother would do the honorable deed and eat the little beast in full public view of any other potential brats.

A month away from my girls is never easy and when I am weakened by a stomach bug, it makes the whole process a little harder. My body aches more than a 55 year old mans whose 29 year old girlfriend has lured him to yoga lesson because it will help him to reach that spiritual place when they are making love. I cant wait to hit the road with my girls, road-trip  music, adventure and visiting family, this memory creator will be documented by way of blogs and photos, blank spaces filled in by fresh fruit, ice-cream and beer and as many hugs as a man could bear.
It will also be a time for me to spend with my Mom and discuss the way ahead for my Dad, a conversation I don't relish but one that must be dealt with.

It is also a time of the year where Simon, Nicole and I have been on the receiving end of friends kindness and I am indeed overwhelmed that this generosity has been bestowed upon us, I find it difficult to respond except say thank you.

This to me is the true spirit of these approaching holidays, sharing and laughing with loved ones. It is a time for friends and family to reflect on the past year and forget about the hard-times and just revel in that moment of happiness.

Nite All

Valentines Day

No I am not going mad, it is less than 3 months to Valentines Day and in most cases for lovers young and old this far overrides the Christmas Madness.

I never used to consider the Xmas Factor as an acceptable form of referring to Christmas, but recently I have seen another side to Christmas. For family and friends and lovers is a time to celebrate, spend time together, to share, laugh and create memories to be remembered forever. It is a commercially driven holiday sold with a side dish of Christianity, the red santa figure was created by Coca-Cola and all non-Christians hop on the ride for a free holiday.

Does this worry me? Nope
Why? Because it is a time for me to spend with my girls, reflect on a year passed and hope that I might one day spend it with someone who I love and she in turn loves me.
So am I an athiest or non-Christian?
Again no, my faith is very personal and important to me, Easter is of much more importance to me than Christmas, so I just call it as it is and celebrate it for what it is. Less guilt.
Speaking of guilt, why is it that we rely so heavily on guilt to raise kids, seek attention, enforce religion? Strange isnt it?

But back to Valentines Day, mmmmm a real commercial success story like Xmas and Easter. Bunnies, chocolates, flowers, cards and gifts, billions spent and it supports millions of industries.
Valentines day is a happy day for most, its a day where for a week there is a buzz about as lovers scramble to find something special for their partners, my girls both teenagers have a blast and I share in their excitement as much as I can. If I am not in a relationship, hell I simply buy myself a gift and have a beer or a great glass of red wine.

So as the tunes of BoneyM and panflutes lure you to the shops, enjoy, smile and forget about that perfect figure for a while.

Happy Whatever Day my Friends

Nite All

Room Service

Hi, I am Ted and I am divorced. Not dead, not socially outcast just divorced.

Ok so tell us Ted what the problem is? There is a problem I assume?

Well, here goes. I am a man with emotions, feelings and desires. I am attracted to beautiful women as I have been before, however before I was married and never considered an affair because of that. Now I am divorced, I do not wish to make love to every woman I see, but I would like love and be loved.
My work circumstances do not allow for a relationship as I spend 3 days a month back is South Africa, all of which is spent with my girls.

So what my dear friends is a fella to do?

Rent him a lady for the pleasure of her ways and then hitch up my trousers and set off on another adventure?
Pursue the possibility of a Russian bride, limited knowledge of the English language and customs perhaps, but beautiful, loyal (I am told) and a companion.
I have agreed on principle not to mention the little people, often referred to as midgets, oh here is an advert I found on a website under "Exotic Pets".
Midget for Sale
Entertaining, friendly, clean and can be litter box trained. Perfect for leash training, fetching and tricks. Can be dressed in cute clothes.
Imagine how jealous your friends will be when they see you have your own midget.

Ok enough little side issues, back to my moral dilemma, paying a lady for her services is out of the question, the sweet Russian bride is too close to slavery in my humble opinion.
Religion degrees all activities of a sexual manner be carried out or administered within the legal restrains of marriage, sounds very erotic doesn't. "Darling, I feel a stirring and am contemplating an administration if your schedule allows it?"

So, pray do tell, what is a divorced hot blooded man to do?

Nite All.

The 3rd Option

I have been away from my girls for 36 days by the time I get back to Johannesburg on Wednesday, that's a long time and add to that the lack of power, which in turn relates to a lack of water and hence no flushing toilet facilities.

Yes I can carry water up 2 flights of stairs for the toilet, but it has an odd metallic chemical taste and I fear that drinking it may lead to the spontaneous  origination of a third nipple or testicle, both which pose dilemmas I do not wish to expose. There is a mental picture I carry in my head of wearing a button up shirt and stretching back as we sometimes do, and lo and behold my middle nipple popping through and scaring all in sight.
The other option is far more graphic and disturbing, picture me running  . . . . better make that walking, slowly on the beach, I become lightheaded from the over exertion and fall over onto my back, legs slightly splayed. Lifeguard rushes in to "save and resuscitate" me, and by accident notices a third lump in my speedo. The third teste phenomena was stated on the coroners docket as my cause of death.
As a matter of interest, how would you walk with a third fella down there? Would you need to seat yourself with more care in lieu of perhaps sitting on one of the three?

This my friends is what goes through my mind whenever our power dies, for the record to date I have no glowing beams emanating from any part of my body so radioactivity can be ruled out.

On that happy note

Nite All

Organised Slime

Fame and fortune and the price we have to pay for it.

If you are a female, famous and add to the qualifications above average graced with beauty, you have suddenly become the target of the paparazzi. These are the lowlifes of society that have no regard for anyone and would sell their mothers for a used cigarette butt, they waffle about in their cesspool little worlds of septic stench and taint all they come into contact with.

The sad truth is that if these festering boils of humanity had no market for their cowardly invasions of peoples privacy, they would become instinct and would hopefully cease to be and die a painful cold disease infected death.
So are they entirely to blame? No.
The publications that flaunt their wares like prostitutes invading your dining room during Sunday family lunch are as guilty for providing a livelihood for our blood sucking spineless leeches, they in turn are fed by the millions of readers who buy their filth and crave for any semi-disclosed glimpes of a breast or bottom.

We, the general public have created a monster so vile and evil that it will stop at nothing to obtain information be it true or not. They will trample on and destroy lives and families, sell their souls and trade anything for filth they can blackmail to the highest bidder.

The solution? I dont think we have one.
We live in a world were electronic data is processed and distributed quicker than the Kardashians can outswear an entire trrop of marines on leave after 2 years combat.

Once the damage is done, it has very little chance of being removed from the minds of those who believe it as gospel truth.

Nite all

Willie Nelson Rocks

I like Willie Nelson.

I am sure more than half of you have clicked to the next blog by now, but hang on. If I had said I like Kim Kardashian or one of her 20 sisters then fair enough.

What makes Willie Nelson stand out for me? His hair? NO! His music? Well some of it is ok. His acting? Um I think Chock Norris acting in a musical might do a better job. Then what is it.

He is a survivor. Born in 1933 and fighting the establishment and standing up for what he believed in has not made him a favourite with the authorities. He has ever always fought for what he believes in. In 1993 due to mismanagement of his accountants he was bankrupt and lost all he had. He started from scratch at the age of 60, me starting from scratch at the age of 43 seems like childsplay in comparison. He paid back his debts and his friends bought some of his assets and rented them back to him at a nominal rate. I too have friends that have lent me almost all that I have in my flat, I do own my own underwear and pride myself that these are replaced once they wear through in the gravity regions causing a free falling scenario I am very uncomfortable with.

He has been married 4 times and has 7 kids, he has been arrested numerous time for the possession of marijuana but I suppose we are all allowed our faults, this is what makes us human after all.
He has fought for and campaigned for many years for causes such as Farm Aid, Bio-diesel, Anti-war and animal and horse welfare.
In comparison, I advocate free speech (not hate speech) free beer (My Free the Froth Campaign is in its early stages) and encourage the "Hug Someone Daily" slogan. I have been married once and have 2 kids and  have only been arrested once but not charged.

Willie Nelson is a free spirit operating within a system made to protect the middle classes from any threat to their little world they have cocooned themselves in, he fights and sings for what he believes in and has more hair on his head than I have on my entire body.
He reminds us that we need to do more than just our so-called 9-5 duty, I need to leave my comfort zone and embrace my neighbours warts and all, irrespective of their religious, social and musical choices.
Yes opera hurts but not as much as Oprah.

If they dont like beer, have a fruit juice with them.

Nite All

Rocking with Depression

I know what it feels like to be tired, moody, angry, irritable and as miserable as a Liverpool supporter, I have lived with a desire not to get out of bed in the morning and not even the allure of an exceptional cuppachino able to rouse limbs that feel hundreds of years old.

Its called depression and is basically a condition that takes the rock and roll from the soul and replaces it with Michael Bolton ballads, a fate worse than eating extra spicy curry when you have aching hemorrhoids i am told.
My name is Ted and I am on medication for depression.

When I am on the meds, I cope perfectly well and am able to cope with most of life's curveballs, without them I am unable to process and understand and rationally deal with them at all, I am an angry teenager who cannot comprehend  the need for logic as it defies my irrational tantrum. I was convinced by my therapist, doctor and friends that these were needed and the difference has been life-altering. My biggest stumbling block was "me" and seeing it as a character flaw, I was too proud initially to admit that I was not able to cope on my own, I mean just look at Batman and how happy he is! I have tried to wean myself more than once and quickly realised that they were a part of life as much as my distorted sense of humour is.

So all was going well until I discovered that I will be in Lesotho a week longer than anticipated and will be running out of my "happy I want to cuddle the world" pills. I have had to move to alternate days and with the reduction emerged my old enemy, laughing and attempting to drag me down to the cesspool from where he emerged. The battle has once more commenced.

For me to do my Mick Jagger moves with the raspiness of Bob Dylan impression, I need the little pearl of stability that comes in a white capsule and henceforth I can Rock the Depression oooooooo yeah. For now my moves are very unlike Jagger and resemble a sloth without a Garmin.

Also have the odd headache to contend with, but the light shines and the tunnel draws to a close.

Nite All

Homemade Lemonade

R6.00 for 2 lemons.

Has the world gone mad. When married I had 2 lemon trees and a lime tree in my back yard and I could never find people to take them because there were so many. According to the cost and the other ingredients required, I have decided to calculate the cost of your average glass of homemade lemonade if Sipho and Kobus were operating their BEE eLemonade Crush Stand.

The standard ratio to a simple lemonade recipe is once of water, lemon juice and sugar per serving, dissolve the sugar in some water heated on the stove and once dissolved add the balance of the ingredients and simmer.
Let it cool overnight and add fresh mint if required and serve over crushed ice.

This basic recipe is foolproof, the result is awesome and the addition of your own alcoholic derivative priceless.

The cost per glass of lemonade purchased from Sipho and Kobus will be in the region R20 per glass (just under $3). for them to make R100 each a day profit they would have to sell in the region of 40 units.
If I had to explain this to my daughters they would look me squarely in the eye and ask if I was ok. Did I really expect them to sit on a sidewalk/pavement and risk getting mugged or worse sunburnt and what would happen if their BlackBerry batteries died? Times have changed and simple is not what it used to be.

PS. I think I may make some lemonade for old times sake.


Nite All

Hair Attack

I noticed that with maturity comes unwanted traits that I never seemed to be aware of in people before. I have aches in parts of my body caused by sport when I still thought of myself as invincible, for example if I am on the floor it requires a set of moves that would make a Chinese wrestler proud just to get back on my feet.

Another side effect or mutation is the emergence of Lone Ranger hairs.
They work alone, spring up when you least expect them and will ride against the natural direction of the other hairs. They also prefer areas where they can expose themselves to world with pride, ears, eyebrows and nostrils to name three. I was not going to be intimidated by one such hair on my eyebrow and decided to attack it with a set of tweezers, I should add that my Simon or Nicole are normally the ones that remove these outcasts of society for me.
So the battle commenced.
I lost.
I was slaughtered and for my efforts I now sported a bald spot which is not in fashion and could not be covered up. I believe the final tally was as follows, "Mad Grey Hair's removed nil and normal eyebrow hairs removed twenty".

For my last tattoo on my back, the area had to be shaved before the tattoo commenced, I have come to accept that it is a battle that I am beginning to lose. However, every now and then I arise like a phoenix and attack and pluck and shave till I am once more granted access to state acceptable to 10 years ago.

Nite All

My Friend Monday

We all have a "special" friend, someone we have known for years, love like a brother or sister and yet are a little wary of taking them into public.

They are as loyal as an old dog and you know that if you called them at 3 in the morning to help you dispose of a body, they would. Of course you will receive a lecture next to none and a tirade of abuse as well (unless the body is that of your ex), but they would do it.

This is the same relationship I have with Mondays.

I love Monday like an old friend, we have been together as long as I can remember and have shared good and not so good memories. Monday is the puppy that licks your face at 5 in the morning wanting to play, its is also the dog poo you step in in the middle of the night.
Its the girl you loved who broke your heart and the one you will love forever but will never date.
Friday is the pop music of the week while Monday is more of the loud grunge rock you aren't quite in the mood for, its the wrong place at the wrong time.

The misfortune of being born Monday is that it has a responsibility to get you up, kick your bottom out into the street and force you to work to begin a new week. It is the bad parent who has to enforce the discipline even though it would rather play and laugh.
So, perhaps we should embrace Monday and love it a little more, thank it for always being around and knowing that no matter what, Monday will always be on our mind.

Nite All

December Beckons

I started writing this blog under a heading entitled "Lovers" and then I basically ran out of words of the positive nature.
Why?
Well I contemplated that as we approached Christmas, it was the time that more suicides are committed than any other time of the year, so I have decided to entitle it "Surviving Christmas".

My first 2 Christmas's after my divorce were absolute hell and I longed for the day to end and for folk to leave me alone, I could see through their smiles as their eyes told me that they felt sorry for me. It was a time where was it not for my beautiful Simon and Nicole, I would have fled and just kept running.
However, friends embraced us, they welcomed us into their homes and they acted normally and didnt make a fuss over us, they allowed us to hide, blend into the shadows and withdraw when it became too much.
My 3rd Christmas was much better and I was able to interact and my girls and I smiled and joined in, we had found our niche and our reduction from 4 to 3 was now stronger than ever, bless you Brian, Dee, Zane and Trav.

Financially the past three years have been all about survival and in most cases we were not even able to give gifts, this for me was a humbling experience as I battled to receive and not return the favour. On reflection it was a time where I truly learnt more in that period of my life about grace, love, compassion and God working through people as they blessed us with gifts, love and even food.Our first Christmas together was 2 weeks after the divorce and I was so broke that homeless folk slept better than I, I had no home a Fiat Uno with all my worldly possessions in it and we were housesitting a friend of a friends home. A friend took me off to Pick and Pay and bought us groceries for the holidays so that I wouldn't have to worry about feeding my girls. I will never forget that.

So this year, my wish for you and me is the same, find some friends, family or loved ones. If you have none of these then make an extra plate or two of food and drop them off with folk who would appreciate them, any old age home will have forgotten folk who will welcome sharing a cup of tea with you.

I plan to visit my folks, my Dad with advanced Parkinsons no longer remembers me and it pains me to see him in this state, but the memories are so alive and filled with love that it will be great to see him. My Mom is the rock that has and still does keep us as a family together and I have so much love and respect for her.

Dont leave it till the last minute, start your planning now and make it a Christmas to remember.


Nite All

Black and White

So it seems that dogs see life in black and white and I was thinking that this may indeed be a wonderful way to see life for a while, please don't assume that I am not a fan of the spectrum of colours that bless me when I  stub my toe or cut myself shaving, but I often do not appreciate them with a lego block wedged in my heel.

The absence of colour assists me to focus on the object at hand, it enhances the subject and fades the additional extras into a background haze that rests like an exhausted puppy. A beautiful portrait, a wedding or a funeral can be expressed in a manner that colour cannot match. (It has been brought to my attention that the only difference between a Brakpan wedding and a Brakpan funeral is one less drunk).

Would this work in all situations? No, nature, food and boy bands need to be encased in the full spectrum of colours.
Why boy bands?
Well to capture them in black and white would somehow somehow elevate them above the dressed, patted and painted synchronised musical monkeys they deserve, colour shows them as they truly are and entitles them their lollipop candyfloss moment of recognition.


When I am in the process of photoshopping the colour out of a picture or bleaching it, I am always amazed at the transformation and personality that the photo takes on, it transcends itself from a mere collection of millions of coloured pixels to a story begging to be shared.

Colour somehow envokes the feeling of motion and movement whereas black and white seems to stop and capture that precise moment and freeze it forever sealing it in a timeless capsule. Thats what does it for me, I have that moment forever locked in a frame and encased in glass.

Click click

Nite All

Rock & Roll Grub

It s fun, its sensual and its as sinful as wearing a loincloth made of bacon to a temple ceremony and you weren't even on the guest list.
Its like meeting your new dates parents and hitting on her Mom, its the orgasmic response to the first bite of a meal so good you want to cry.

Rock and roll depicts a theology and lifestyle that is more than the image of wild orgies and drugs, no my friends it is so much more than that. It's just a step to the left, and a jump to the right, its rock and roll dreams come true, its a crazy little thing to call love. Dreams than can come true, a smile and slow dance so intense that if you were to kiss, a crowbar would be required to pry you apart, yes my rocking friend its all about passion and living for that moment.

Rock and roll food is the same, its the juicy cheese burger complete with a slice of tomato and lettuce on a soft seeded roll, a beef patty the thickness of your thumb and hot crispy fries. As you bite into it, hot juices run down your chin and drip onto your plate, the taste of grilled beef and melted cheese awaken a stirring in you and you close your eyes and just relish the moment. It is a meal that awakens memories and if shared with a loved one you cant help but flirt with them as you lick your fingers between bites. You stroke the juices on your plate with a chip and the crunch as you bite into it sounds like ice cracking, slightly salty, hot and tainted with pleasure. Its a ballad of love found, lost and never forgotten. Its a kiss in an alley, its sneaking under their t-shirt and their sharp intake of breath as you make contact with their skin.

The smell, the taste, the experience is what makes it the ultimate rock and roll meal. Its about falling in love all over again or getting over a crashed relationship. Accompany it with great music and you can face another day or tackle the impossible.

Nite All

Bullies

We all have a thorn in our side, a bug who we would like to squash and strutt away into the sunset sipping on a canned beverage.

Some of life's problems can be resolved by turning the other cheek, being the bigger person or smiling in the face of adversity, others however . . . . .
In the early days of divorce there are so many raw emotions and confused thoughts that you wear your emotions on your sleeve. Snapping, outbursts and overwhelming emotions with a tendency to take all comments personally don't help the situation.

It has now been close to three years that I have been divorced and friends, family and a very patient therapist have turned me into a human being, well not according all that is. What has changed is that I have learnt to express my self, so instead of saying "That was not the most intelligent decision of your life" I might be tempted to utter "OMW did we have to flush all our braincells away this morning? Could we not have saved 3 to keep us ahead of Neanderthal man? Really"
Being honest has helped me to stop myself from having my third stroke, so far so good.

Back to the thorny little bullies, in this case a limp wristed pencil pushing spoilt human who has no people skills and the tact of a sailor in a brothel, someone who has no management experience and uses their lack of skills to bully those below them by means of pulling "rank". Such a spineless silver spoon fed protected enema of a human specimen only understands one form of response, attack.

So I lost it, not proud of my actions, but in this case justified as it required this method of interaction to send back the slithering sloth to the hole from where it crawled.

Bullies only understand a show of force, it requires this for them to leave you be and search for an easier prey who will bow down to their little power plays.

Inner peace, meditation and calm, maybe tomorrow.

Nite All

Spring Fever

Spring

Its when trees blossom and people seem to emerge from the sewers of winter wearing smiles and exposing white bleached skin to all and sundry.

Smiles replace grimaces and layers of clothing are replaced by tight t-shirts, amazing on the ladies but not so enduring on fully bodied middle aged men like myself. Picnics and walking and for some cycling become the order of the day as the winter kilos are frowned upon and the search for the perfect beach body commences.

I went for an half an hour brisk walk yesterday midst the locals who giggled and called me names I am sure refer to my rock and roll walking nature, red face and gasps of air. Some followed for a short while like vultures expecting me to drop and die so that they could pick me off like a corpse. I came back to my room and collapsed on my bed and dreamt of beer, cold frothy and oh so smooth, my bottled water tasted as exciting as Liverpool's Premier League survival. The need for bottled water is not due to my extravagant  lifestyle, no it has to do with the chemical smell and white sizzling nature of the local water on tap. I prefer my body to rust the old fashioned way, by means of lager and pilsner.

I am always reminded of the following quote when I begin outdoor exercising, " I don't trust joggers! It's just coincidental that they are the ones that find all the dead bodies"

Avoid bushes, watches and jewellery that lurk within your reach, you will discover that they are attached to a body and that leads to valuable time away from friends and pubs giving police statements. It also keeps you from exercising if you ever venture outdoors again. Perhaps this will explain the surge in the sale of treadmills in cities.

So besides the dead bodies and hayfever, you have picnics, beach parties and braais with friends. Embrace Spring and feast on the t-shirts fellas.

Nite

So You Had a Crap Day . .

So you had a crap day.

Its ok, no seriously it means you are normal and this is all part of the wonder experience we like to refer to as "life".
I am a two cuppachino before 09h00 in the morning person, if my schedule is somehow broken I have the potential to be as friendly as an ex-wife who cant track her maintenance payments. We all have little rituals that form part of our sanity tour and this often determines if we whistle as we work like one of those super happy little smiling dwarves or turn into the haemoroid man who has to cycle to work and is too scared to use the loo because of the pain.

When I reflect on the past week, month and year, I analyse the goof, the bad and the ugly. I then try and understand what made me able to stabilise the bad and the ugly and what pushed me over the edge. Sometimes as I plummet into a pit of misery and depressing self pity, I am able to stop myself and recover, other times I have to swallow my pride and reach out to a friend. This reaching out is not always easy as questions will be raised that need to be answered, I don't like that because it somehow indicates that I not a superhero, merely a human.

If I now glance back over the past 3 years, I have notice that I have gone from having 1 good day a fortnight to 12. I am no longer triggered by comments and remarks from my ex and my fuse is now considerably longer. I don't question why, what and if only any more, I have accepted what has happened and am embracing my new role as a single dad. I have also realised that being single is fine and that my job and my girls need me to be this way for a while. It will need someone who understands me and is patient to allow me to enter their lives, perhaps that person is still out there and if she isn't then thats cool as well.

As for those off days, well its all about how we deal with them that matters. To smile and keep it all together when your steak is overcook or how you deal with a limp asparagus if you're a vegetarian tells alot about your character.

So you had a crap day?


Nite All

My Girls

I sometimes have a need to write and just clear my head of the little chaos that is currently weighing me down, I have 2 sounding boards and will reflect my thoughts and let me actually hear what I am saying.
When I have spoken to Regan or Candy, I come away with some of the mess and wandering philosophies boxed and stored in a system I am able to make sense of.

I am not the easiest person to live or work with, ask my ex-wife and I am sure she will oblige, I strive for perfection and the word "anal" has been raised on more than one occasion. I am however generous to the point of stupidity and loyal as a dog and expect nothing except a thank you in return.  My latest concern has been my girls, two beautiful loving individuals who are blossoming into young ladies and have a grip on my heart so tight I could cry just thinking of them.

Simon turns sixteen shortly, she is bundle of teenage energy, master of accents and baker of note. She has the potential for greatness and I pray for her to find the right person to share this with. Show her a cookbook or the cooking channel and she will sit under her blanket and absorb and make shopping lists of "essential" ingredients as she does.
Nicole is my baby and my fighter, she wears her emotions on her sleeve and is passionate about her decisions right or wrong. She has also challenged many of my grey areas of beliefs and ideas and shattered them beyond recognition. When she decided to date across the racial line, it was time for me to reconsider my comfort zones regarding my princesses, and when my girls sat with me and discussed it and we shared our ideas I felt truly blessed to have them as my girls.

As they have grown and their independence and personalities have become more evident, I have been able to open myself to a different view and outlook on life. One should never underestimate the many ways God will reach out to us and prompt us to question what is acceptable and what needs to be challenged and perhaps thrown out if it is unfounded.

So in short, thank you my girls for your input into my life and keeping me on my toes mentally and emotionally, Daddy loves you more than you can ever imagine. Our relationship has been one of the blessings from my divorce.

Nite all

Rent a Midget

I am cold, freezing and in need of a hot water bottle or a midget to use to warm me. The Queen of Hearts in Alice in Wonderland had the right idea of using a warm pigs belly to rest her feet on, bravo evil Queen bravo.

It was -6'C last night and we had no water or electrical appliances due to our power board lighting up like a terrorist touring an explosive factory and then it died, tragically. Dark descended and with it came its extremely unpopular sidekick, Cold.

I was in bed by 7 and asleep by 8 complete with my thermal socks and only my eyes peeping out from beneath the blankets, I awoke at 02h00 and was cold. This is the first time since I have been in Lesotho that I have been cold at night, hence my request for a midget  that I can move around to warm the cold bits of my body. 

If any of you have a spare midget lying around, I would be most grateful if I loan the little bugger.

If I have offended any of you with my simple request for warmth and comfort, I apologise most profusely and will allow you visitation rights to midgetville, however I must urge you not to spoil them as midget tossing and Leon Schuster movies depend on them for their livelyhood.

On that emotional note, I have the following to say

Nite All

Passionate Princess

When I hear her voice I am instantly aware that passion of a woman compared to passion of a man are separated by voids not visible to the naked eye.

We all carry some underlying tone in our voices whether we are aware of it or not. Some carry a pretext of nagging, others mischievousness, cheekiness and even arrogance.

The lady in question who for purposes of this tale shall be addressed as "D" has the ability to fill a room like the faintest hint of an expensive perfume that tickles your nose as it brushes by you seductively. She giggles, flirts with her eyes as she gently bites her bottom lip and when your guard is down, has the ability to ask a question that leaves you squirming in your seat.

Picture yourself on a rooftop with a dark-haired beauty sensual in every manner sipping a delicious full-bodied glass of red wine and discussing life, love and sex. Imagine laughing and sharing as you try not to visualise the pictures you so desperately wish to for fear of falling off the roof. D is passionate about love, her children, her man and her career. When she entered politics she did so with the same energy she does life and this includes dedication, compassion and a temper so fierce I am amazed she has not entered parliament with a baseball bat. 

She is as comfortable addressing a board of directors as she is serving soup at a homeless shelter with an orphan in her arms. She gives and gives and eventually crashes and burns in a heap of exhausted emotions convinced she made no difference and in these moments of human frailty, she is even more beautiful than ever. It is here that she is able to let others love and care for here and nurse her back to rock and roll political goddess mode and set her loose on our society again. 

To be in the presence of a beautiful woman is indeed one of life's true blessings and when stimulated by her brain and a desire to change the world with a belief that it can be done, it inspires us to look beyond our petty emotions and focus on a larger greater need.

Nite All

Coffee & Sex

The origin of coffee dates back to the ninth century and what was discovered by an Ethiopian goat herder by the name of Kaldi.
The word "coffee" basically means "wine of the bean" and this addictive black magic brew has intoxicated and brought enjoyment to people all over the world. I am tempted to say that it is enjoyed more than sex and if you question this, then definitely more often than the pleasurable procreation participated in by millions.

The coffee bean was nibbled, crushed, burnt and finally boiled before it was lured into releasing its essence. It was used for medicinal purposes, aphrodisiac and taken during times of prayer before it eventually led to the first coffee shop being opened in Istanbul in the middle 1500's.
The first organised brothel however dates back to 5 BC and the Greeks are attributed with this honour.
Since then coffee shops and brothels have spread to all corners of the earth.
I must interrupt and raise a question if I may, what did people drink before Kaldi and his wandering herd of goats discovered the cocoon of caffeine. I can see the tea-drinkers bouncing up and down and clapping their hands with glee and Aunty Mildred stumbling into the room with a glass of Merlot and half its contents dribbling down her chin,
Yes Yes tea and wine have been around longer, but neither are as seductive or erotic as a roll under a duvet or a cuppachino. Sharing coffee with a friend is one of the 1.5 billion cups consumed a day, that is three times more than people making love to each other.

Just think of the different types of coffee, cuppachino, expresso, latte, mocha java, and you seem to have words so seductive that they will bring a blush to many a fair maiden.

So on that sexy note, Nite All

Rural Bathing

Two days without bathing and I feel as if I am on the verge of launching a new kine of body odour called "You're Feisty".

Our water is pumped up to a holding tank and then distributed as and when we require it, when we have a power outage, we have no water and the odour of the past creeps back like heartburn after a dodgy pie.

I had set aside 3 wetwipes from a restaurant chain and this would been my plan of attack if the electric gods once again felt us unworthy of their gifts. It's moments like these that make living in Africa great, we have so much we take for granted and yet we have this fickle structure that is as reliable as Blackberry's future.

I awoke and water ran from the tap and I had to fight down the urge to run down the passageway singing "Rock and Roll dreams come true". It was a beautiful moment and even though the water pressure was a weak as a priests alibi on a youth camp, it was enough for me to wash all the bits that needed attending to.

So here I am at my desk, sick as a dog with flu, but not smelling like a lemon scented wetwipe and grateful for running water and electricity.

Nite All

Frosty Bits

I am cold, colder than the heart of a divorce lawyer or a cat who is ignoring you.

There was snow and I am not in favour of it. It is just a pre-requisite for mud and has the potential of ice on steps. Now this led to a knock on my door at 21h00 on Saturday night as one of my work colleagues fell up a flight of stairs. After pointing and an initial spurt of acceptable mocking, I did what any neighbour would do, I gave him 4 Disney character plasters. The look of utter disgust was priceless and I had to stop myself from giving him a peck on the cheek.

Life on site has entered a routine and the advent of a week of sub zero temperatures and snow has certainly cast a little disconcertment amongst us all, almost like a huge rump steak in the company of vegetarians. Please don't get me wrong, I once knew of a girl who heard a tale of her distant aunt's twin daughter-in-laws roommate who bumped into a vegetarian at an anti-prenuptial rally in some distant American State.

I bought a pair of longjohns this weekend and am now in need of thermal underwear before it reaches the stage where a vasectomy is no longer required and I will be left with nothing to scratch when I awaken in the morning. Pre-waking needs for bladder visits to the loo have now become instances of dash and slash with the acute possibility of a splash.

So into the cold frosty yonder I venture until we next cross paths

Nite All

Sundays, Cycling & Death

Sunday nights are the pits.

I am in darkest Africa and am currently camera-less, work is getting busy, but like all projects away from home the weekends are long. I am not a sociable drinker so clinging onto a bar counter like a three year old holding onto his penis is not really my thing.
My Mom and sister have knitted some teddy bears, scarves and beanies for the kids in Lesotho so this weekend they will be delivered, how my Mom manages this while looking after my Dad with advanced Parkinsons is indeed astounding. I am alone and I barely manage to look after myself, in fact if my bottom wasn't connected to my body, I am sure I would have misplaced it by now.

I have come to realise that my girls are at an age where they need their parents less and less and are becoming independant little adults. I think it is harder for a Dad to accept as they are always going to be my little angels, I mean that's why I have the chloroform, cable ties, baseball bat and hacksaw or as I prefer to call it, my "Dexter Welcoming Kit". When I am having a bad day or feeling lonely, I think of my girls or try and make contact with a friend back in SA, sometimes I find someone to chat to and sometimes they are able to chat, so I need a cuddle buddy and a chat buddy. Should you wish to apply for any of the positions, please mail me on tedlodewijks@gmail.com and I will respond accordingly, tequila or milkshakes will be supplied.



I am also considering aquiring a bicycle, my concerns are that I will be able to walk, sit or get out of the bath after my first cycle, as I am living with 15 guys I would also rather die naked in the bath than have them rescue me. So the cos by far outweigh the pros at this stage, also whoever designed cycling kit must have been more in touch with his happy side than Elton John after a couple of strawberry daquiris. And for the record guys, any drink that has an umbrella, fruit or needs to be drunk through a straw is meant for the ladies, just saying.

On that extremely biased note, I must leave you and head into a 3 hour meeting.

Nite all

Rock and Roll Parenting

Just under a hundred miles an hour on a potholed filled road with rock and roll blaring and singing at the top of my voice.

My head is clear and I had coffee with some beautiful amazing friends this weekend. This is the mood food that your soul requires, friends, hugs, laughter and a recharging of your positive mojo.

This overflowed into my joyful singing race to the border, I was Thelma and Louise served with a side order of Chuck Norris and just a pinch of Wolverine. Do I hear a hoohah? Lol

30 days till I see my girls again so time to buckle down and work. Eat the stew, admire the scenery and stay sane. It is Nicole's birthday next week and Simon's next month. I won't be there for either, its a choice my girls and I made together when I accepted this job. I know that by seeing them 3 days a month I am missing out on a large part of their life. If I had to philosophise it all I would be as miserable as a chubby boy who can't touch his toes. Instead I smile and when I don't I make contact with my support crew back home.

Parenting means making tough choices, we all do and we live by them.
Bravo to every parent out there, rock and roll parenting means doing your best and smiling when you feel like crying. I admire single parents and the tenacity and inner strength they show at all times. Yes we cry behind the scenes and lie awake worrying about making it to the end of the month, we struggle to give our kids the best and beg borrow and steal to see the look of absolute joy when they have it. We are survivors and silent worriers, but dedicated and hard working and often survive by accepting love and support from our friends.

Sometimes I have to push life to the limit, it is after all rock and roll to me.

Nite all