Wednesday, August 27, 2008


Sweet, the Doctor and I were enjoying a warm afternoon at the local, when the Sumo bus drove by. It was fairly easy to see they were Sumo's as they were all sitting along the downhill side. The road was flat, but the bus had a fifteen degree list to their side of the bus. Plus, the top knots and reserved expressions completely gave them away. My impression was; these dudes are friggin huge. They took up the entire window frame, that would have taken two or three hippee tourist types to occupy.

The Pmpkn and I are venturing to the Grand Khan Kempinski hotel in the AM for a glimpse. They might be staying further from town, but I'm willing to give it a shot. The lad doesn't have a choice, but then again he rarely expresses any opinion on where our morning walks leave. Sweet. I'm really hoping they will be in residence, but it is more likely they will be at the Hotel Mongolia a dozen klicks from town. No problem, though. If they aren't at the Kempinski, we'll journey further afield the next day.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

To be an Olympian


Is still profitable. Check out what Mongolia's first gold medal winner is taking home. A cell phone with a very special number. All nines, which is preferable for some reason or another. A three room apartment, Two SUV's, enough cash that he will need a couple of wheelbarrows and last, but not least, eleven pounds of gold, plus the medal itself and the joy of the entire population. Gotta love it. Sumo's are in town, but haven't seen one yet. Shouldn't be hard to miss.

Sunday, another great day for Mongolians. Their boxers managed a gold and silver today. To say everyone is in a good mood would be an understatement. Horns are blaring, people are still cheering an hour after the final match. Erdene was a little non-plussed by the total number of medals, until I pointed out that the Americans would have to win 200 and the chinese many hundreds more (bonus points for anyone who cares to do the math), in order for their totals to equal Mongolia's haul on a per capita basis. Having been briefed by KAP I am glad to say the medals are in the MANLY EVENTS We are hoping for a parade tomorrow and there are sure to be fireworks tonight. Here's hoping the gladness spills over into the legislative sector as they really need to sit down and reform the government. Oh well, for tonight they deserve the celebration.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

So, my wife gave birth to an axe murderer

And Mongolia rejoices over gold medal

I never could post on just on topic. First the lad. The most telling sign of his personal development is his reach. The very back of the cutting board set to the very rear of the kitchen table is not safe any longer. Erdene and I were enjoying a quiet mornings perusal of the daily news, blissfully unawar e of his kitchen play, until he sauntered in from the kitchen and presented his mother with the big cleaver. Thankfully, he simply handed it to her, while we sat like deer caught in the headlights. More often than not, he prefers to work on his pitching arm. Perhaps, he has figured out that knives are a little scarey, but I think we will have a cupboard for knives after this point. In case anyone is wondering, Mongolia apartments do not generally come with drawers which can be childproofed. On the bright side, the electrical plugs are mounted a little above waist high, so we don‘t have electrocution hazards for another month and a half at his current rate of growth. I had an inkling that parenthood could be a little traumatic at times, but the big cleaver?

On the plus side, he has learned to respect the curb as a definite boundary, not to be crossed without someones hand, which tempers my most frequent nightmare. And he has come to consider the stove top to be an enemy and limits his play to removing the temperature controls. Confession time, when I was two or three, I managed to set my parent's kitchen alight by way of some injudicious fiddling with the knobs. As a reminder,my mom still has the fire scorched spice rack which along with a set of curtains were the only physical victims of the blaze. My dad still jokes that my first word was fire, fire. And we’re doing better than the poor mom up in Maine. She was doing kitchen chores while her toddler slept in his playroom on the third floors. She was a bit non-plussed when she heard a bump on the baby monitor and then saw her son toddling about in the yard. Apparently, the little tyke escaped the playpen and managed to exit the window through the screen and free fell twenty odd feet for a safeish landing in the grass. He definitely gets a perfect ten on the dismount.

Ah yes, the Olympics. The familia were watching on Thursday evening, along with the rest of Mongolia when Mongolia's Tuvshinbayar Naidan won the men's 100-kilogram class judo gold. It was a somewhat strange evening. I was hearing a faint echo of the roar from the crowd, which had me looking out over the balcony to see if there was an outdoor showing at the neighboring wrestling palace. Nothing there, I was hearing the massed shouts from the bars on the opposite side of the street fronting the palace. What a night. Fireworks, car horns (more than usual, as there is a direct connection from a Mongolians nervous system, straight to the horn button) , the actual fireworks started around ten, as thousands filled the main square. I wanted to attend of course, but my sweet voice of reason suggested I watch from home, as I wouldn’t have made it across the street without a half dozen friendly invitations to wrestle. As, I’ve already broken two ribs on the cobbles of the wresting palace and wish no more, I listened to the missus and stayed put.

Pretty good performance summoning up fireworks on such short notice, as this particular athlete wasn’t predicted to finish in the money. And he is in the money, as the first gold medalist from Mongolia. Two cars, money from just about everyone. Plus, the complete adoration by the populace. As my Canadian aquitance remarked yesterday, if this fellow isn’t a total oaf, he’ll be seated in Parliament as soon as he announces his desire to sit for a seat.

A week ago this past Saturday, the North American contigent in UB summoned a focus group which touched on Mongolia’s chances for a gold and were in absolute agreement that winning would be in the best interests of the country. Everyone is still a bit in the dumps from the rioting, the minority parties refuse to convene the legislature, and this should be the spark which gets things moving forward again. Certainly, Friday morning was deathly quiet once the last of the revelers tottered off home with the coming of day break. The homecoming parade should be huge, with any luck it will run in front of our building and we won’t need to brave the hordes in Sugaarter Square.

Thursday, August 14, 2008


Nah, not here. I'm a bit amazed and occasionally appalled by the comment sections in online papers. I am totally pissed when I see an article in a national paper, which while making no sense at all, denies me the ability to speak from the ass without delay. Here is an article to the point.

No shit, sherlock. Anyone who can keep a bottle of virulent poison around their person can certainly keep same from polluting a mailbox, let alone holdings stray hairs from the box in question. Damn... Are the reporters so stupid or the investigators. Certainly the editor was asleep at the switch when this one went to press.

Why can’t I blog regularly?

There is an old saying in the computer world; “garbage in, equals garbage out. Fair enough. I’m a news hound though and I spend way too much of my available time taking in info. Not there aren’t some fabulous stories out there, but not really. Saipan news, State of Maine news, Mongolian news, world news, news of the weird, .. And of course there is Pumpkin news, combined with news from bloggers whose children I adore. Mellisas’s lovely daughter, Boni’s growing group (growing up, not expanding population), Deece’s little darlings, the baby tree hugger, my own family’s ever expanding brood. I’m overwhelmed. Sorry.

UB is quite fine this time of year. The lad and I have the morning outing and we usually manage a family evening in the courtyard playground, plus the odd afternoon trip to the market for dinner. He’s making friends. Pumpkin or buddy is a bit bigger then the local kids his age which leads to some lame explanations as to why he doesn’t talk, but he holds his own on the playground and is making good marks when it comes to playing well with others. Joy, Oh joy. I don’t mind an only child, but I don’t want a selfish,insular, only child. I’ll take what I get, of course, but I’m very happy with what we have. Amara is curious and intuitive, plus he enjoys imitating adult behavior. Give him a bag of rice chips and a bottle of water and he heads for the nearest stoop for his snack. I’m not a big one on sitting at the table, but I do like to eat sitting down and he manages that without suggestion or command.

All right, I’m going to write less, more often. I owe a review of “Dateline Mongolia”, the Mongolian outlook at the Olympics and my dear wife’s ambition to compete in the pistol category next time around, my thoughts on the life and writing of A. Solzhenitysn, plus I need to update my bookmarks. Sorry no pictures, I managed to lose my Camera. Which rather sucks, as the lad has greatly expanded his repatoire of cute expressions, as his teeth come in.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Highlights; film at eleven

Jogging around the blogsphere, I noticed Boni has a cool new widget. Blogroll support, with the first few sentences of the last post and the time elapsed. Oops, has it really been two weeks since I posted on my shameful cooking. Oh well. Back at it today and I’m going to give pancakes with bacon another try. I’m still coming down from my high of last night’s exquisite Beef Stroganoff and feel ready to tackle my horrible burner and lame assed frying pan. Life has been quiet here in UB, since Naadam. Everyone who can, has fled to the countryside and even mid-day traffic is light.
Apparently, Blogger had a major spasm this past week and many were frozen out of their blogs. Read about it here on BBN, if you are INTERESTED. Glenn on Saipan appears to be down and out. Of course, Saipan being Saipan there could be several reasons for his absence. Fried motherboard, incessant power failures at Glenn D. com, or just simple fury at the system which is Saipan’s dysfunctional government. Or he could be taking a golf vacation. I’m hoping it’s golf.

Big Sox news. They traded Manny. A hot topic of conversation all over New England I’m sure. I even had a radomn encounter with a fellow sox fan at dinner the other night and Manny was the word. I’m going to miss him. He just seemed so lackadaisical. Baggy pants, flowing dreads, and his somewhat un-athletic frame. Definetely not Yankees material, although neither was Johhny D, prior to the queer eye for the straight guy makeover. I’m over fretting whether or not the trade was a good deal, apparently the clubhouse and the front office were both done with him. I will miss the look on pitcher’s faces when they were forced to choose between getting down with Manny, knowing the Big Popi was next in line. I am glad he went to the National league as I didn’t want to see that look on the Sox pitching staff. Later, Manny. Hope you enjoy Hollywood and thanks for the thrills and laughs. If you should party with the Los Lobos boys, tell them the Doctor says hello.

In Pumpkin news. Not much. His teeth continue to come in and have made his face fill out nicely. He has the greatest little smile these days and uses it whenever possible. I’m really starting to enjoy his company on our jaunts around the neighborhood. He has that insatiable little boy curiosity which combined with the smile and those huge eyes, makes every encounter an enjoyable one. He had his first major scrape recently. Even some blood where a small piece of glass sliced his little knee. Erdene had the duty that morning and reported that both mother and son recovered quickly. Erdene and I had our own little drama last week. We both forgot our second wedding anniversary. As luck would have it though, we enjoyed a quiet dinner out in the Pumpkin proofed basement of the Silk Road followed by an companionable walk home in the soft summer twilight . We both agreed that if we had been celebrating our anniversary it couldn’t have been a nicer evening. Gotta love it when life works out well enough,that special occasions can be an everyday event. If anyone was wondering, the eclipse was a loser here in UB. We were too far off the track for the show to produce anything except slightly damaged retinas. Bad news in town is the price of a half a pound of ground coffee is around eight dollars. Back to intstant for me. That’s it for today. We are putting the lad on a schedule and its wakee wakee time.