The Cooyal Pub

I packed yesterday. I originally had two bags out with the intention of half filling both, so I have two different practical bags whilst in Mongolia. After I weighed myself/weighed the bag/weighed myself/weighed the other bag, I decided to scrap that idea and shove as much as I could into one - thereby reducing my suitcase weight by half.

It worked. I now have a 30kg pink hard cased suitcase with three vacuum sucky bags and lots of pills and toothpaste in it. The only problem is some things wouldn't fit. Two pairs of shoes, PJ's, track pants, assorted things I can't pack until the day I go and everything else I forget. But the main suitcase is done up. It's not coming undone either. Mainly because I packed my white leather clogs and I know mum will make me take them out if she sees them. YES, mum - they ARE practical. I wear them everywhere and it's SUMMER in UB (p.s. UB = UlaanBaatar which is the coldest city in the world and where I'm going to be living, hence the title of my blog).

Apart from packing, I played with Minkey's pups although she doesn't like you touching them so you have to pick them up and put them straight back down. But it's worth it. I got some chicken out for dinner to no avail. Mum and Dad had a rough day in town and rough day = Cooyal Pub. They were gracious enough to call before I started cooking. I drove the 15mins to the pub.

The Cooyal pub is a bit rough. It used to be a local hub when I was in preschool and kindergarten. There was a general store and the pub was always busy. It was perhaps not as busy as I thought as I was probably blinded by the amazing chicken twisties that older girls on the bus used to buy me because I liked them, I was cute and my mum wouldn't give me money to buy anything at the shop (the bus used to stop at the shop on the way home so we could all go in and buy lollies etc).

It kind of went downhill until about 2002-ish when a new publican took over. It's again a hive of activity (sans the general store; plus dongas for the miners). Especially on Thursday night when you get a schooner of beer for $2 and a raffle ticket for the meat tray.

Dad couldn't handle my order for wine (not wooded chardonnay or anything sweet), so I went up to order with him. I asked what wine they had (specifically would like a verdelho or would drink sav blanc if necessary). Answer:
Barmaid: do you want cask or bottle?
Sally: Glass
Barmaid: do you want cask or bottle?
Sally: (upon realising she meant did I want the cask wine or a glass of wine from a glass bottle) bottle
Sally: what do you have?
Barmaid: (brings over a bottle of chardonnay)
Sally: what else do you have?
Barmaid: (goes to fridge, goes to kitchen, goes to fridge)
Sally: chardonnay is fine, thank you
Barmaid: (pours)
Sally: (sips and is pleasantly surprised! An unwooded, local chardonnay that is actually delicious!)

Whilst sipping my unwooded Farmers Daughter chardonnay and eating my rather chewy rump steak (just a little gristly, tis all), mum had visitors pop by our table. The standard introductions ensue: "this is Sally, my eldest daughter, she's going to Mongolia next week. And you remember Ebony? She's almost finished school so she's pretty happy".

Response: after looking at my ring finger asks me how old I am, why I'm not married and that I should hurry up or I'll be too old.

I arose this morning to a typical day at home. Galahs woke me; roosters made sure I was awake and then dad started pottering about and I got up. Ben, the guy that's helping dad out at the moment, took the dogs for a run and forgot to get Lace from her puppy pen. I ran up to let her out, she got all excited and then wouldn't go for a run. Turns out she just got super excited I was going to feed her. Nevermind.

I photocopied and organised all my paperwork today, and organised my budget (pretty easy, as we get the same amount every month).
It goes something like this:
$1120/month allowance
= $280/week

I still can't believe I'm getting paid (albeit an allowance) to do something I've wanted to do my whole life. It's extraordinary. And means I can actually do it. Without it, there'd be no Mongolia. So, woohoo to the Australian government for supporting AusAid who support AYAD who chose me to recommend to the World Bank who accepted me and are about to receive a thoroughly inexperienced pastural manager.

This afternoon I went in to town and bought me some PJ's and track pants; ginger for the curry and went to the gym. The gym is a perfect size for two people. Which suited me perfectly until another 5 big blokes walked in and started hogging all the equipment. I generally try to be good with the boy/girl fairness thing - but at the gym it seems to go out the window. It just feels like I'm a girl so I don't need that bench or those weights or that machine. I'm glad I plucked up the courage to stand my ground in the gym though - I totally love it (LIE. I love the results).

I dropped into Westfund, our health fund to drop in a receipt. Westfund share their office with Country Energy (just bought out by Origin, might I add. Go Origin!). I was chatting to the lady at the counter (who does a remarkable job of remembering my name - usually people just go with 'which Mayberry are you?' because apparently 4 completely different sisters are hard to tell apart). Chatting, chatting, chatting away.

Garry walked in, to pay $40 off his energy bill. The lady at the counter was trying to locate his bill in the system. She asked Garry if it's 'Garry with one r or two r's?'.
Garry replied 'I dunno, it says two r's on me birth certificate but I dunno, but I don't know why and I dunno'.

Fortunately the Country Energy lady could find him despite him not knowing how he prefers to spell his first name.

After an eventful trip to town I got home, lit the stove and started chopping and cooking. Nikki sneaked inside and asked me in a doey voice 'this might sound like a really stupid question, but could you please chop me some wood?'.
Nikki's 21weeks pregnant and lives down the road in nan and fa's house (nan moved to town a bit after fa died). They've got a rip roaring wood heater but it needs wood to feed it. She had none cut and she can't chop wood. I'd usually get really angry and I guess I was a little bit. But you're not allowed to be because she's pregnant so I went and chopped wood (which, by the way, I SUCK at) and loaded her ute while she chopped and cooked my chicken curry.

All's fair and Nikki got to light her fire to keep her warm, and I just ate a really delicious chicken curry (with a buttload of sweet potato and not much chicken). Yum.