25th december christmas day

Woke up and lay in bed for a while. It’s Christmas day. The air is chill-warm, that strange short-lived combination of cool dawn mingling with the promise of a warm morning. I contemplate the usual stuff – life, the universe, naval lint, what life would be like if insects were the same size as me, and then I rise, flinging on some boxers. I amble to the balcony first to do my weather check and find the carpet of frost has been swept up and bagged by the moon before he exited - stage left. The sky is an intoxicating blue and the sun still a diffused blaze of yellow behind the wall of forest.
I head downstairs to get a coffee and am abruptly reminded that I have no gas. I will ask Over when I see him if he has another connecter for ‘la bombona’ but in the meantime I have a beer for breakfast and light the stove. I get some kindling and realise the stove is still full of ash but I am not inclined to empty it out today.
Finishing my beer, I have a tired attack and have a real crisis. Do I go back to bed and sleep or do I make something of this glorious - not to mention holy - day. I need coffee to wake mew up so I grab the kettle to fill it and boil it on the stove. The water trickles out of the tap. I try to wash up and it peters out altogether - would you Adam and Eve it! Not only has Santa not managed to get down the flue and not only has he not left me any presents, but he has taken back with him my gas and water, or at least blocked the supply while he was attempting to get down the flue. Blimey. It’s not as if I have much in the way of amenities in the first place.
No gas and no water, and the day had only just begun. I go over to find Over and knock on his white door a couple of times but he is not around (or he has decided that he's having a lay in and won't answer the door until he is ready). I dig out a couple of bottles of boiled water and have my coffee. The water comes back on in a dribble about one hour later so I fill up everything I can, slowly.
Well, what can you do? I chill out on the balcony in the full sun and watch the Christmas day routine. Just like any other day really. The bright sun is enveloping the forest with the warm caress of a billion years and the rainforest basks in it all, equipping the world with the oxygen to keep the billions of worker ants in the choking cities alive, whether they deserve it or not.
Eventually Over comes over and mentions the water - he's going up the mountain to the tank in the stream to check it out. I ask him if he has another connector for the gas cylinder but he says not. Looks like its wood-stove cooking for Christmas. Smoked this, flamed that, ash on toast ...
Late morning - the water seems to be flowing okay now. I wonder what he did. I suppose it was just a question of cleaning out the filters and checking the pipes or something. If it happens again I’ll take a torch and do it myself. I have a cold shower.

The Christmas Day a la Carte menu:

Breakfast

A beer
Tomato, onion and mayonnaise bun (x2)
Bag of raisins
Coconut juice (CRCCC)
Cup of tea

Lunch

Flame-grilled hamburger, with tomato, onion, and tomato, sauce in a bun
Beer with vanilla cookies
Tostadas with mayonnaise, tomato sauce and French
mustard dips
Another beer
Flame-grilled coffee

Dinner

Smoked omelette with tomato and onion
Pilchards
Orange cordial

Supper

joint (not the kind you eat!)
Beer

(Management extends apologies with the announcement that Ice cream is off the menu today)