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Leighton: That’s really cool, thanks for sharing especially since it reminded me of stories my dad used to tell me.
I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned this but my dad got retrenched in the late 90s Asian financial crisis.
He was in the same bank since he was 18, and I guess it meant a lot for him – the routine, the camaraderie, the sense of purpose, providing for the family
It was odd adjusting to him being at home days, and he was always restless, unsure of what to do
Ended up mostly sleeping and reading, an entirely unhealthy habit to be on; he became a shadow of the man he used to be, less confident and recluse
He was ‘saved’ by an old bank client, who bought up tracts of land at the nearby limestone hills and decided to start a farm, gathering up old friends who were willing to help
Think millionaire retiree astride a horse with shotgun on the saddle (for monkeys, squirrels and monitor lizards), wearing a stetson, dogs by his side, and the ubiquitous silver flask of whisky (!) - I think he’d fancy himself a modern day cowboy.
He’d grow anything you’d suggest him to, rear whatever he fancies, learning from books or advice from the local agriculture and livestock council.
Sheep were a favorite (huge demand during the Muslim celebrations) and my dad would tell me of hours spent climbing the mountains to look for that odd one who missed morning roll call. Not particularly bright they are, going all the way up and then not knowing how to come down again, legs trapped in goodness knows what crevice.
He’d tell us at the dinner table of helping birth the young; I can almost remember his laughter and his eyes growing large, when he remarked, ‘I couldn’t imagine the legs of that creature within the womb when they came out!’ His friend reading off the book with a torchlight, him with his hands dirty.
He put in a lot of effort there, came home sweaty and dirty in the evening but he loved every minute of it