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