Thursday, December 30, 2004

Say cheese!

We had fondue for dinner tonight. I can't think of too many things that are better than fondue! All that creamery, garlicky, oozy goodness. The Swiss got it goin' on!!! By the way...the bag of fondue cheese said it was for 3-4 people. I ate 75% of it. That means that I ate three Swissy's worth. Damn!

Honesty is the best policy!

We went to the A Chau (Gesundheit!!!) Asian Market in Basel today to pick up a few things for our New Year's Day feast. The total cost for our things was 39 francs. I gave the lady a 200 franc note, and she gave me...261 francs change!!! An easy 61 franc profit plus free Asian groceries??? Of course not! I brought the mistake to the lady's attention, and she exchanged the 200 CHF note for a 100 CHF note. My good deed for the day!

Monday, December 27, 2004

Bz the waz...

I've been using Mrs. TBF's laptop today for blogging. Her work laptop has a German keyboard. Most of the keys are the same as the American keyboard, but the major differences are the y and the z are reversed and the apostrophe is in a different place. So, if I donät end up correcting what I tzpe, it looks something like this. Itös prettz annozing. I made the decision when we moved here that I was going to stick with the American kezboard. Mrs. TBF (verz bravelz) decided to go with the German kezboard. So, on the rare occasion that I have to use a German kezboard, I trz to not be too wordz because I begin to get reallz now!

Those German lessons are beginning to pay off!

I went to the post office today to buy some garbage stickers (here, you have to buy stickers that you stick on each bag of garbage which means that you pay for each bag of garbage you throw out). When I walked up to the front door of the post office, I was surprised to find about forty people standing in line (usually it's one or two people). The line did not move at all after two minutes, and I told the man in front of me that I only needed to buy Abfallmarken, and he told me that I could buy them at the pharmacy down the street and save waiting in line. I drove down the street, bought my garbage stickers, found out the price is actually going to be reduced after the first of January (imagine that...the town is actually going to reduce the price of something!), and then I went to pick up Mrs. TBF who was playing tennis with a friend about five minutes away. So, making some small talk in German easily saved me twenty minutes of waiting time today.

We spent Boxing Day...

...packing boxes. Actually, we have been packing five or six boxes per day for our upcoming move. It's pretty hard packing boxes for a move that's coming up in a month. You can't just go shelf by shelf or cabinet by cabinet. You have to actually think about what you're going to be needing over the next month, skip those things, and then just try to fill up the boxes the best you can with the other stuff. We've made pretty good progress so far, and I'm sure we'll be totally ready when moving day comes up at the end of January. At least I hope we're not doing frantic packing the night before our move.

Saturday, December 25, 2004

Merry Christmas!!!

I just wanted to take a short break from the gorge-fest I've been experiencing over the past few days to wish everybody a very MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! Mrs. TBF has been cooking up a storm, and I've had no complaints....chicken pot pie, steak and Guinness pie, fried calamari, etc., etc. I just tell myself that it's winter, and I'm a mammal damn it!!! I need an extra roll of blubber for winter protection. It's part of my genetic make up.
That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it!

Tuesday, December 21, 2004


Today is the 21st of December. In North America, it's written 12/21/2004. However, in most of the rest of the world it is written with the day before the month (personally, I think that's a stupid way to write it...Isn't the month more important than the day?) In Switzerland, it's written as 21.12.2004. What does all of this mean??? It means that it's the perfect day of the year to honor Rush's 1976 masterpiece album - 2112.
So, Mrs. TBF has been treated to both the original album, and a live version of 2112. Although she hasn't said anything, I'm sure she's not too happy about it. Maybe I'll show my appreciation by throwing some Coldplay into the CD player. I don't mind them, but they're no match for Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson, and Neil Peart!!!

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Another trip down memory lane...

Twenty Six years ago today - on December 15, 1978 - I saw Rush in concert for the first time. They were touring in support of their Hemispheres album, and they played at the International Amphitheater in Chicago. I'm not going to bore you with a bunch of praise for this great band (people pretty much either love them or hate them). But, I would like to point out that Rush has had 22 gold albums in America. That puts them in a tie for fifth place all time behind The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Kiss, and Aerosmith. Pretty impressive, huh? So, why aren't they in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame? If you think they should be, then click HERE to go fill out a petition to help get Rush inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Has it been FIVE years already???

What was on everybody's mind five years ago this month? Y2K!!! I can't believe that it's been five years since the end of Western civilization was supposedly nigh. Were you one of the many who were buying back-up generators, stock piling drinking water and canned goods, etc. I have to admit that I did stock pile two gallons of drinking water, and I may have had a flashlight in a drawer with dead batteries in it. But, I never really bought into the hype. Sure, I had thought about buying a back-up generator, but it was more as a back-up to power outages caused by ice storms - not Y2K!
When you look back at it, it all seems pretty silly now. I'm sure there are a lot of people who are still laughing about what a killing they made off of gullible people during the Y2K scare. Although, at the time, I guess there was the general feeling that something COULD happen.
If you do a "Y2K" search on Yahoo or Google, all you find are a bunch of "dead" websites. It's old news....almost as if it never happened. I mean, when's the last time you actually even thought about Y2K?

Happy birthday to "The Wall"!

Pink Floyd's masterpiece album - The Wall - is 25 years old this month. OK, you caught me, it was actually released on November 30, 1979. But, since I got it as a Christmas gift in December, 1979, I'm celebrating the 25th anniversary this month. I can't even begin to count how many hours have been spent listening to this album/CD. First, in my bedroom in Wheeling, IL on my Radio Shack stereo with my black light on (how 70s!), then in my various dorm rooms in Evanston, IL. Then, I bought it on CD in the late 80s, and soon it will go onto our new iPod.
Yesterday's German lesson, of all things, jogged my memory regarding this album. Carmen - my German teacher - used the words "der Mauer". When I asked her what it meant, she said in English: "The in Pink Floyd The Wall". My first thought was...Rock on, Carmen!!! Then, she spoiled it all by pointing out to me that the album came out the year she was born. Damn!

One of many TBF Rules...

If my window blinds are down...PLEASE DON'T RING MY DOORBELL!!!! That's just one of many rules I have which I will share with you over time.
A certain person who will remain nameless (Clue: She's Canadian and lives next-door to me) rang my doorbell this morning at 9:00 to ask me a question. My blinds were drawn, and there was no sign of life. The only reason I ended up going to my kitchen window to see who it was was because I'm expecting a delivery of moving boxes today, and I thought it might be the delivery man.
R.E.M. sleep interuptus.....NOT GOOD!

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

Juha soitti...

Minun serkku Juha soitti pari tunttii sitten. Hän meinnaa tulla Sveitsiin kaymäs. Ugh....just forget it. I can speak Finnish, but I have one heck of a time trying to write it.
What I just wrote was: My cousin Juha called a couple of hours ago. He intends on coming to Switzerland for a visit. Actually, he is going to be coming here from Finland on a business trip, and we're trying to coordinate getting together. I haven't seen him since 1985 when he was about 17 years old. I'm assuming he's changed a bit since then. I know I have.
We spoke on the phone for about thirty minutes. It was nice talking to him. He speaks English, but I told him I need to practice my Finnish every chance I get since it gets a bit rusty in Switzerland. I only speak Finnish with my father on the phone about once per week, and that's only for about three minutes. He's not that much of a phone talker, so after three minutes he hands the phone over to my mom. My mom speaks Finnish too, but I always speak English with her. So, this thirty minute Finnish conversation was a real treat.
When you tally up today's languages it comes out to: German: 95 minutes (90 minute lesson plus some random talking in public), Finnish: 30 minutes, English: 10 minutes (I ran into one of Mrs. TBF's ex-coworkers at Starbucks, I spoke with a neighbor for a couple of minutes, and random comments to the pets).
Speaking of the pets, I better go feed them. Dominique is pacing!

Monday, December 13, 2004

What the Hell happened????

I just watched a show on BBC called "Whitney's Addictions". My God...what the Hell happened? It's amazing what happens when that downward spiral begins.
By the way...the Brits pronounce it: "Whitney Hooston." What the hell is that?
Yeah, I know. It's late. Mrs. TBF is in Zurich for a few nights. I just finished doing my German homework in front of the T.V. Actually, I didn't finish. I just gave up. My homework isn't being graded. I'm forty-two years old, and I don't have to do my homework if I don't want to!

Friday, December 10, 2004

Well? I'm waiting...

Six weeks ago, a man came out to repair our boiler. At first, it was going off every couple of days or so, and I'd have to go down to the basement to turn it back on. It was a bit of an annoyance, but I learned to live with it. Suddenly, it started shutting down every few hours, and it became a hassle. That's when I decided that I'd had enough, and I called the service company.
The service man came out and did a temporary fix. He told me that he needed to order a replacement part and that he would come back out to install it when he received it. He spoke English very well, so I know there was no misunderstanding.
A couple of weeks later, a lady called from the company and set up an appointment with me (in German) for the following week. The appointment was for a Thursday morning at 9:00 a.m., and when nobody had shown up by 10:00 a.m. I gave the company a call.
The lady (once again, in German) told me that she would have the man stop by our house that morning. I figured that I had misunderstood her German and that I had just gotten the day or time wrong. When the man showed up a couple of hours later, he told me that he didn't even have me down for an appointment that day. He told me that the wrong part had come in, and that he, himself, would call me himself after I returned from Chicago on November 20th. He also told me that the lady I had spoken with at the company speaks perfect English and is married to a man from England.
This past Monday (December 6th), I called the company and spoke with the lady. I told her that I understood that she spoke English, and she responded in German that she does but my German is completely understandable and that she was going to speak to me in German. So, I muddled through a conversation in Germ-lish (a combination of German and English), and understood that she was going to check with the repairman and call me back.
Yesterday (December 9th), I called her back and she basically told me that she hadn't forgotten about me, and that she will call me when the replacement part comes in. I told her that it had been about six weeks since the first service call. She said she realized that, and that she will call me when the replacement part comes in.
So, that's where we stand right now. I have no recourse because it's the repair company that the landlord uses.
These are the little frustrating episodes that really grate on me here in Switzerland. I told this story to one of my Swiss neighbors, and she told me that it's the same for her and that it's not just the foreigners who are treated this way. Whenever you need something here, it has to be ordered.
Who couldn't run a successful business if you didn't have to carry an inventory and you didn't have to worry about customer service. Mein Gott!!!!

I was just wondering...

Why don't Swiss people wear gloves and hats? I've noticed this for some time, and it was noticed immediately by my parents when they visited us a couple of years ago.
The temperature this morning was below freezing. Mrs. TBF and I both had on hats, gloves, and scarves when we walked to the tram. We were definitely in the minority. Most of the people we saw just walked around looking cold with their hands pulled into their sleeves. Why they don't put on a pair of gloves, I just can't figure out. I even noticed a mom riding a bike with her two-ish year old child riding behind her in the child seat. The kid's gloveless hands were flailing around in the wind. Also, the kid wasn't wearing a hat. There's no way this kid could have been warm enough when you added in the wind chill of a bike ride with a temperature of -1ºC.
It's really strange. The locals wear winter coats, and the heat on the tram gets turned on, when the outdoor temperature drops below 15ºC, but very few people wear hats or gloves when it's really cold out. Sometimes, I just can't figure out these people.

Thursday, December 09, 2004

And now for the French Swiss!

Last night, Mrs. TBF and I went out for dinner with Tom and Sylvia. We drove about thirty minutes to a town called Soyhières which is just outside of Delémont - in the French speaking part of Switzerland. Even after living here for four years, I still find it amazing that you just drive thirty minutes away (within the same country), and they speak an entirely different language.
An interesting thing is that the French Swiss and the French French actually understand each other when they speak French. The Swiss German speakers, on the other hand, have a very strong dialect. The Swiss can understand when the Germans speak, but the Germans have a hard time understanding the Swiss. As a matter of fact, when a Swiss person is speaking German on a German TV program, the producers often put German subtitles at the bottom of the screen.
Anyway, language was not a barrier at Le Cavalier restaurant because when the first waiter heard that we were English speakers, he just switched places with another waiter who spoke very good English. Tom and I had some frogs legs, Sylvia had a nice vegetable platter that they made up for her, Mrs. TBF had some perch, we enjoyed a few bottles of wine, I had a nice banana split for dessert, some whiskey, and some coffee. They even brought us a couple of side orders of French fries. After dinner, the chef came by our table and shook our hands.
The perfect streak continues. We still have not had a bad meal in Europe!

You gotta love the French!

Our old neighbors Tom and Sylvia have been in town this week. Yesterday, Sylvia and I took the train to Strasbourg to check out the Christmas market. Christmas markets aren't really my cup of tea (I think once you've seen one, you've seen them all), but I thought it would be nice to go to Strasbourg since I hadn't been there in four years.
We had an early start. We arrived at the Basel train station at about 7:00 a.m. so that we could buy our tickets for the 7:30 a.m. train. The Basel main train station is actually divided into the French and Swiss stations. So, if your journey is taking you to France, you simply walk through French border customs in the station, and then you are officially in France.
At 7:30, there was no sign of our train. We looked at the electronic board, and noticed that it was not posted. So, we just took the 7:58 a.m. train instead. This was my first dose of French for the day - no notice, no apology, no...nothing. The train just was not there, and we had to take the next one....c'est la vie!
After arriving in Strasbourg, we found our way to the information office at the train station. The sign outside the office actually read "General Information" in English alongside the French and German equivalents. I went to the desk and asked "Parlez vous Francais?" The response: "Non!" Then, I actually managed to blurt out Ou est la marché de Noel (not sure of the spelling), and the man's coworker rambled on in French and pointed down the main street. So, off we went...hopefully headed toward the Christmas market.
To our surprise we arrived at the market about fifteen minutes later. I won't bore you with the details, but the market definitely had a plethora of food, mulled wine, candles, ornaments, etc., etc. Sylvia and walked around for about an hour, and then we headed to this shop that has hand-painted, Russian wood carvings.
It was a nice shop. It seems that the specialty are these hand-painted carvings of Santa Claus. And, I must say, they are pretty least they held my attention for about five minutes. Sylvia, being on a first name basis with the store owner (apparently she has a whole army of Russian Santas at home) was picking up the various carvings, comparing them, looking at the prices, etc. I had noticed about eighty or so "Do Not Touch" signs posted about the store, but apparently Sylvia had immunity. I, on the other hand, quickly found out that I did not share in this immunity.
I saw this little three inch nesting Santa, and when my finger was a mere centimeter or so away from it, I heard the petite store owner (who had suddenly turned into the general of the Soviet Red Army) bark out: "DO NOT TOUCH!!!!" Hoping to avoid Gulag) I immediatly slinked to the other side of the store. Along the way, I passed Sylvia who pretty much had a Santa under each arm, one under her chin, and was using a fourth one to scratch her back while the store owner smiled and asked her how her husband and children were doing.
After leaving the store with a couple of Santas, Sylvia and I went to the only restaurant in France that does not serve French onion soup or French fries. We couldn't believe it. The waiter did not (probably, would not) speak English, but I understood his French well enough to know that he was saying they did not have onion soup. Sylvia, being a vegetarian, wanted a green salad and a plate of fries. We had seen that some of the main courses were served with fries. However, the waiter just would not bring us a side order of French fries. So, I ate my liver quenelles with potato salad, and Sylvia had a green salad with two slices of bread. The food was good, but onion soup and French fries really would have hit the spot. To make matters worse, when we were getting up to leave, we saw another waiter setting down a big platter of fries at another table.....sacre bleu!
After lunch, we took a taxi back to the train station. We saw a sign for departures and headed in the direction of the arrow. About a minute later, we saw a sign that said departures was in the direction we had just come from. So, we turned back thinking that we missed a sign or something. As it turns out, we hadn't. There were just two signs about fifty meters apart from each other saying that the departures area was in the opposite direction. I fully expect that Sylvia and I are going to be on an episode of French Candid Camera in the near future.
After ignoring the signs and just finding the departure platform on our own. We boarded our train for the return journey to Basel (or, Bâle as the French call it). It was fairly uneventful until the French border patrol officers suddenly showed up. Before I knew it, I had some kind of official credentials about three inches from my nose and a man with an armband asking me a question in French. I just said, "Passport?" He said I need to see your passport and luggage. I gave him my passport, Swiss residency card, and held up my shopping bag from the Christmas market. After convincing him that I live in Basel and was just returning from the Strasbourg Christmas market, he allowed me to avoid being thrown into a French prison. Sylvia seemed to get a little more of the third degree since she is a holder of an American passport as opposed to my Canadian passport. But, she too avoided the guillotine. We kind of chalked it up to them having a little fun hassling a couple of foreigners. That was, until we saw them doing everything but strip searching an elderly French man. This silver-haired, approximately sixty-five year old, professional-looking, French man had his briefcase AND WALLET searched. They actually searched behind the credit cards, under the money, etc. inside his wallet. They found nothing, thanked him for his time, and then moved on.
And what is the result of this day, you ask? The result is: I still love the French! There's something about them that appeals to me. I don't know what it is. They're just incredibly unique, and I never know what to expect.

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Am I taking crazy pills or something?

Or, am I the only person who realizes that the 70+ year old ladies with the jet black/dark brown/pumpkin orange hair who ride the tram are dyeing their hair? I mean, come on...give it up! I know your hair is grey. Maybe the rest of the tram passengers are fooled, but I'm certainly not. Just show off your grey hair with pride - you earned it! At the very least, choose a color that isn't quite so extreme. May I recommend a nice light brown, or a dirty blond. There's something about the combination of a deeply wrinkled face and charcoal black hair that just isn't right.

Something you don't see everyday...

Mrs. TBF and I were watching some show on BBC last night, and I noticed that the interviewer was wearing a monocle. That got me to wondering - Where does one buy a monocle these days?
For the answer, I just had to turn to the trusty internet. I typed "monocle" into Yahoo, and the first choice was: "Buy Monocle eyewear at" It's nice to know that the monocle wearer has seven styles to choose from. I guess if I were a monocle wearer that I would want a different one for each day of the week too.

Sunday, December 05, 2004

Happy birthday, Bob Neuenfeldt!

Bob used to live behind me when I was growing up in Wheeling, Illinois. I think his addres was 43 Redwood Trail, and his parents names were Bill and Inez. He also had two sisters named Debbie and Donna. For some reason, I always remember his birthday on December 5th. I'm not really sure why. It's just one of those dates that sticks in my head. He would be 43 now, and I haven't seen him since about 1975 when he moved to California.
I noticed in Yahoo People Search that there is a Bob Neuenfeldt listed in Newport Beach, CA. If that's him, kudos on "making it." Newport Beach is pretty affluent, so he must be doing OK. Happy birthday from TBF.

Saturday, December 04, 2004

Many good things happened yesterday...

First of all, an excellent week of fitness culminated with an intensive, butt-kicking kick boxing class followed by some relaxation in the Sauna Landschaft and five minutes in the tanning bed at my gym.
Then, Mrs. TBF returned from a two-night business trip to Dublin with some black puddin' from the Dublin Airport duty-free shop. If you've never had black pudding, I highly recommend it. Find an Irish butcher, and bring some home for a proper Irish breakfast.
Mrs. TBF and I then walked over to Emil Frey to pick up our car. The men in the blue lab coats had it waiting for us all vacuumed out. Most importantly - the CD player was repaired. Not only was it repaired, but they had it cued up so that when I turned the car on, Going For the One (my favorite album of all time), by Yes, was playing. It was the third CD in the player, so it couldn't have been at random. By the way, when you have your car repaired in Switzerland, you don't pay before you leave the dealership. THEY SEND YOU THE BILL IN THE MAIL...SOMETIMES AS MUCH AS ONE MONTH AFTER THE REPAIR! Can you believe it? What a trusting country. Could you imagine what would happen in the U.S. if you didn't have to pay your car service bill before getting your keys back? The U.S. bill collection industry would double overnight!
After we returned home, I took a forty-five minute nap. Then, I finally finished the last of the turkey soup with a couple of BLT sandwiches. As a rule, any day where bacon is consumed automatically bumps that day into the top percentile of all days.
Finally, marital relations probably would have resulted in this being the pinnacle of all days, but Mrs. TBF and I were rather tired. She was tired from her trip, and I was tired from a combination of kick boxing and a stomach full of bacon. I guess it just wasn't to be. But, it was a great day nonetheless!

Thursday, December 02, 2004

It's THAT time of year again...

Tomorrow morning at 8:00 a.m., I have to bring my whip (that's gangsta' for car) in for its ANNUAL oil change. Yup, I said annual. My buddies - the technicians in the blue lab coats - at Emil Frey use synthetic oil, and I've only driven about 5,000 km. this year, so I only need to have the oil changed once per year. I'm also going to have my 50,000 km. service which means, in their words, that it will be a gross Service (gross as in German for big, not as in English for disgusting). Since we shipped our car from America, I have to put a sign in the car reminding them that the odometer is in miles, not in kilometers. The first time I ever brought the car in for service, they told me that they had done the 12,500 km. service. I told them thanks, but the car actually had 20,000 km. (or, 12,500 miles) on it. I didn't really mind the honest mistake one time, but I don't really want it to happen again. Having your car serviced is an expensive undertaking in Switzerland - an oil change costs about $60 as opposed to the $25 one pays at Jiffy Lube in the U.S.
Also, the notice for my car inspection just came in today (January 31, 2005 at 1:00 p.m...."please arrive five minutes before your appointed time"). Switzerland has incredibly thorough mandatory car inspections which apparently come up once every four years. They go over the car with a fine-toothed comb, and whatever they find wrong you have to have repaired within a certain time period. This, too, can become kind of expensive. I'm going to bring my notice in to the blue lab coat boys tomorrow and tell them to get the car ready for the inspection. I fully expect tomorrow's service to cost about 2,000 CHF (about $1,735 U.S.). Then, I'll have to bring it back right before the inspection to have the engine steam cleaned (required for the inspection) and pay a high wage earning mechanic in a blue lab coat to drive my car over to the testing station (not required, but there's no way I'm going to try to decipher auto part names in Swiss-German), and it will set us back another few hundred francs. When you add up the maintenance, insurance (2,900 CHF per year), parking (175 CHF per month in our new apartment), and gasoline (1.45 CHF/liter or about $4.78 U.S./gallon), it starts to seem pretty expensive to keep a vehicle that we drive only a couple of times per week.
And speaking of insurance...I just e-mailed our insurance agent with a few questions, and I asked him why our car insurance premiums are so high considering that our car is now five years old. He responded with a number of reasons, but the shocking one was that the insurance value in Switzerland of our 2000 Jeep Grand Cherokee Limited is 46,000 CHF. That means that our five year old Jeep is currently worth $39,937.48 U.S. in Switzerland (using today's exchange rate). Our car is worth more than we paid for it five years ago!!! Maybe it's not that expensive a thing to keep around afterall.

I blew it!

I just had two Jehova's Witnesses come to my door. I should have invited them in for some turkey soup. Sure, I'd have to listen to their schtick, but it would have been my chance to unload the leftovers. It was God's way of getting me out of my predicament...and I blew it!!!

Turkey...Day 6, and counting!

We had our Thanksgiving turkey at Andy and Di's house last Saturday night, and I have to say it was some damn fine bird! It was about 9.5 kilos/21 lbs., and I made it on the Weber as usual (11 minutes per pound, indirect method, add 10 coals per side...has never failed me yet). As it turns out, it was the bird that almost wasn't. Let me explain.
About a week before our dinner, while I was in Chicago, Mrs. TBF went with a French speaking co-worker to the grocery store just over the border in St. Louis, France. There, they ordered an eight kilo turkey, and said that we'd pick it up on Friday, November 26th. When Friday came, I picked up Mrs. TBF and a few of her co-workers. Fortunately, her assistant (who is French), also came along just in case we had any problems. And, as it turns out, we did.
As we walked up to the meat department, we noticed one 9.5 kilo bird in the "public" cooler. I kind of stayed back looking it over while Mrs. TBF's co-worker began speaking with the man behind the meat counter. Suddenly, I saw him shaking his head, which was followed by him and a butcherette looking through various coolers. He told me (translated by Mrs. TBF's co-worker) to guard the ONE REMAINING TURKEY in the cooler...I did. After finding no turkey with our name on it, he looked at a list, and then he showed us that our name had been crossed off. Why? I guess we'll never know. All I know is, that we ended up walking out of Géant with a bigger bird than we expected. And, that brings me to my point...
The downfall of a 9.5 kilo turkey: turkey leftovers for days. Sunday through Tuesday consisted of leftover turkey, stuffing, etc. Last night, I thought I was in the homestretch when I was making the turkey soup. Then, I realized that I had about three more meals worth of soup leftover after eating last night's dinner. I'll have turkey soup for lunch and dinner today, and then for lunch tomorrow.
I love a good bird. But, enough is enough.