Merry Christmas all the way from the moon

Many moons ago, way back in Singapore Christmas was a big thing for me. These days it’s just another working day. That was 20 years ago. A planters life is not something I expect any reasonable person to understand…. He lives in the gyre of that great wheel of life where caprice and the vagaall ries of the elements reduce him into nothing more than an ivory ball on a roulette wheel. It’s a domain where a man plays chess with mothernature….. She is diabolically clever this year I say to myself while rolling a clump of earth in my hands. The fucking rains are relentless one moment only to swiftly bow out to scorching days that crack and crinkle the topsoil like yesterday’s tin foil. Somewhere in all this is me. I just turned 60. But I reckon I still have all of me to rush up her skirt when she’s looking the other way. I know it’s Christmas. But I have to strike today. So I work with my men to prepare for what may come…. as for Christmas it might as well be on that cold, lifeless and distant surface of the moon.

I am sorry. I tried to hang on to whatever I could cobble abt Singapore, but it’s just too faraway.

Merry Christmas from the man who lives on the moon.