Merry Christmas, 2008!

To: All our friends, relatives, bloggers, and anybody else who might stumble upon this blog.

From: TBF, Mrs. TBF, and a very uncooperative King

We hope you all have a great Christmas Eve, Christmas, and continued jubilation through the New Year.

Happy Hanukkah!

We've been in London for the past few days celebrating Mrs. TBF's birthday. In all the excitement (including a bout with the flu), I forgot that Hanukkah began last night. I'll have some catching up to do with the menorah (and my candy Advent calender) when we get home, but I guess this one will have to do until then.

Right now, we're sitting in the BA lounge at Heathrow waiting for our return flight to Switzerland. I'll post some pictures from London in the next couple of days.

Maybe I DO Need The Practice...

If you'll recall, Mrs. TBF suggested earlier this year that I book a Mobility car every couple of weeks so that my driving skills wouldn't become "rusty". After a quick self-examination, I determined that I was indeed NOT retarded and I just let the suggestion drop to the wayside along with past suggestions involving walks which would culminate in picnic lunches and other things that I won't mention so that I don't fall victim to a middle-of-the-night-rolling-pin-to-the head.

Not needing the practice driving, but needing to run some errands last Wednesday, I booked a car. Sure, it snowed all day, but everything went without a hitch and all errands were completed successfully. Today, I had another car booked, and when I walked to the parking spot to pick up the car, it was, again, snowing like a banshee!

Hmmm... Now that I think about it, maybe I should book a car for Christmas Eve so that we're ensured a white Christmas.

So I jumped into the little, red, Honda Jazz just after 11 a.m. and took off to run my errands. First, I stopped at the pet supply store and bought King a load of cat food. On the way, I noticed that the car sounded a bit funny and that the ride seemed a bit rough, but I figured it probably had something to do with the snow on the road so I just let it go. After buying King's food, I walked next door to Wyss Nursery and bought a Christmas tree. It took a bit of engineering, but after putting down the back seats I managed to cram the tree into the car.

On the way back home, I began to notice a funny smell - like metal burning.

Why are the wheels locking when I come to a stop?

What's that smell?

What's that weird, bright red symbol on the instrument panel?

What's this strange lever next to me that's sticking up in the air?

What the...? Doh!!!

It turns out that I had been driving with the parking brake on the entire time! When I thought about it, I remembered that when I got into the car, the keys were in the ignition, and the transmission was still in drive. I thought it was strange, but obviously the person who had the car before me was used to driving a stick instead of an automatic, and she (had to have been a woman!) had engaged the parking brake before turning off the engine.

Me, having only driven automatics in the flat, Midwestern U.S., would never even THINK to check if a car's parking brake is engaged. I mean, I think I've probably used a parking brake maybe twenty times in the past 30 years of driving. FU**ING parking brake! Sheesh!

I'm happy to report that the car performed perfectly for the duration of my remaining errands...

...once the parking brake had been disengaged!

Evil...But Sooooo Good!

I just saw a little snippet on the Chicagoist blog about something that is now officially my new obsession. Ladies and gentlemen, meet my new obsession:

country fried bacon!

Dip some bacon in batter and then deep-fry until golden brown. Mmmmmmmmmmmm, so good!

NOTE TO SELF: Pay a visit to Wiener and Still Champion at 802 Dempster Street, Evanston on your next trip to Chicago.

I Got Into A Fight...

...yesterday evening, with the common cold.

I was just sitting around reading a magazine, and I suddenly felt my throat getting scratchy. Seeing it as a good excuse to take my beloved generic Night Time Cherry Flavor cold medicine that I bring back from the U.S. (Mrs. TBF says I'm addicted), I did just that. Although I did sleep like a rock for over eight hours, I did wake up with a sore throat.

So how does one fight a cold? I...

...fight the sore throat by gargling with salt water.

...pound Vitamin C tablets even though there's no real proof that it does anything to help.

...drink the blessed nectar from heaven cherry elixir, and...

...whine like a baby so that Mrs. TBF will wait on me hand and foot when she gets home from work.*

I'm open to suggestions. What do you do?

*My cold hasn't yet developed into a full-blown man cold. But Mrs. TBF doesn't know that. Does she?

Flyin' High...

'Tis the season for feeding the birds. Much to the chagrin (I'm sure) of our downstairs neighbors, we set up a bird feeder on our balcony during the cold months so that our little winged friends don't starve. Also, another reason we do it is to provide King with some entertainment - we call it "kitty cable". King just sits at the window, watches the birds, and goes about making strange noises...mesmerized! He'll be twice as mesmerized this year as we've added a suet feeder channel to his cable subscription.

The reason I think our neighbors don't like our bird feeder is because the birds make an awful mess. I end up having to sweep/vacuum up the huge amount of seed shells/mess that ends up on our balcony, and that wouldn't be so bad if it was just a mess on OUR balcony. However, I've begun to notice the seeds on the walkway leading up to our building, so I'm sure that the seeds are also ending up on the balconies of the people who live below us too. I kind of feel bad...um...

Oh...who am I kidding? As long as the neighbors aren't complaining, I don't give a rip!

Earlier this week, I noticed that we were running low on birdseed, so I picked up a bag at the local grocery store, brought it home, and noticed for the first time ever that our birdseed mix contains hemp seed. Is this legal? Obviously it is here. But...would this be legal in the U.S.?

I guess I should hold off on feeding the birds for a few days before any trip to the U.S.; wouldn't want to end up being surrounded by drug-sniffing dogs at O'Hare Airport.

Happy 1,000 To Me!

This is the 1,000th posting on The Big Finn's Big Blog. I guess I should really say 'Happy 1,000 To Us' even though Mrs. TBF hasn't blogged for ages (...ahem!). But regardless of who's been doing all the blogging, it's still a milestone. I figure that the average blog post is about 200 words, so that means TBFBB is equivalent to a 200,000 word novel.

How many pages would that be?

My first post on this blog was on June 17, 2004. That means it took 1,638 (4 years, 5 months, 24 days) to reach the big 1,000. At this torrid pace, I should reach 2,000 on June 6, 2013. I'll be 50 years old then.

Damn!

Will I still be blogging then? Will blogs still exist? Will some other format take its place? I don't know...facebook is pretty darn easy...

Someone Had To Do It!

I just returned home a little while ago from a babysitting adventure. Actually, since the kids (whom I've known for seven years) are 13 and 11, "baby" isn't really the correct term. Dad was out of town on business, and Mom had to suddenly go out of town for the night, so "Uncle" TBF was called in for a little "adult" (snort!) supervision.

Imagine...somebody entrusting me with the safety of their children. I feel like such a grownup.

I actually walked into the house last night and sang: "Here I come to save the dayyyyyyyyyyy!" Since these American kids have lived outside of the U.S. nearly their entire lives, they actually had no idea what I was singing about. I asked them if they knew who Mighty Mouse is. They had no idea.

Sad...

Everything went well. I cooked up a bit of pasta, watched some TV with the kids, answered about 827 questions like "How long have you been bald?", etc., and then the kids just went to bed at 9:30. I cleaned up a little in the kitchen, went upstairs to my room, read until about midnight, and then...proceeded to toss and turn on what has to be the shortest and most uncomfortable futon in the history of futons.

TBF advice: Don't ever buy a futon. If you have a futon - get rid of it!

So after having spent the previous evening with possibly the greatest, most polite kids in the history of kid-dom, I walked the kids to school and then got on the tram to head back home. I got on the tram with my ear buds in my ears, picked a seat, and opened my book. I was tired, crabby, and full of piss and vinegar from having woken up at 6:45 a.m. (It's inhumane, I tell ya!). At the next stop, two Swiss kids got on - one of the kids sat next to me, and the other one just stood next to him in the aisle. The trouble began immediately...

These two juvenile delinquents from Satan's brood began poking each other. Then, they started shoving each other. All the while, they squoli squonked at each other in their Swiss-German gibberish. Other people began giving them dirty looks - more shoving...more squonking...

Why is nobody saying anything? WHY IS NOBODY DOING ANYTHING???, I thought.

I'd had enough! I back-handed the kid sitting next to me in the arm - hard enough to get his attention, but not hard enough to hurt him - while simultaneously giving him the death glare and said:

"GENUG!"

He looked at me and saw that he was about two seconds away from having a size 13 American shoe stuck up his ass. I stared daggers at his friend and he immediately broke eye contact with me. The brats didn't say peep for the rest of their trip. In fact, I don't think anybody else in the entire tram car said peep.

"Here I come to save the dayyyyyyyyyyyyy!"

Warm Thoughts...

...by TBF.

We got our first Christmas card of the season yesterday. It was from my mom and dad.*

I looked at the postmark on the envelope, thought about how I've been freezing my keester off in Basel for the last few days, and then looked at the postmark again. This afternoon, I called my folks, ran a few dates by them, and then I went to the United Airlines website and booked a ticket.

I'll be in Florida in February!

*NOTE TO SELF: Buy Mom and Dad a Christmas card, and mail it, TOMORROW!!!

What Happened?

You used to be so great!

One day, not too long ago, I told Mrs. TBF that I had a real taste for Shake'N Bake. I really liked it as a kid on chicken and pork chops, so seeing how I hadn't eaten it in over thirty years, I decided it was time to relive a little part of my childhood. Figuring that it wouldn't take up too much space in my suitcase, I bought ONE box while I was in Chicago.

Tonight, I dropped the mix into the plastic bag, threw in a couple of chicken breasts, and shook it all up until the breasts were nicely coated. Then I popped the chicken into the oven at 400˚F for 20 minutes, like the instructions recommend. And????

They SUCKED!

Ok...they weren't THAT bad, but they weren't really that great either.

In all fairness, the chicken did end up being crispy on the outside and moist on the inside as advertised. No, that wasn't the problem at all. The problem IS that...it didn't taste anything at all like I remember it tasting when I was a kid. In fact, the coating just tasted like crumbs from the bottom of the toaster with a few (not enough) spices thrown in. Oddly enough, unlike most prepared food in America, it seemed to be lacking salt - I actually had to add some.

Is it me who has changed, or has Shake'N Bake changed? Or both?

And while we're on the topic of expats bringing food back with them from America...

What's with all the North Americans bringing back Kraft macaroni and cheese in their suitcases?

The strangest thing about it all is that most of the people who bring back suitcases full of the stuff admit to me that they rarely ate the stuff back when they lived in the U.S. or Canada. What's up with that? I guess it's just "the thing" to do.

There's nothing wrong with bringing back some stuff from "home" that you miss and can't get where you live now, but a suitcase full of crap that you never used to eat anyway?

Whatever! I've learned my lesson.

December....ALREADY???

Are you impressed that I actually set up my candy Advent calender before December 1st? I sure am! I've had it for as long as I can remember (and probably even before that). Here's what is written on the back:

Timmy [don't know who that is!]

December First to Christmas
Is the longest time of year,
Seems as the old Santa
Never will appear.

How many days till Christmas,
It's so mighty hard to count,
So this little candy ribbon
Will tell the exact amount.

Until [I think the person meant 'untie'] a candy every night
When the sandman casts his spell,
And Christmas will be here
By the time you reach the bell.

I guess I should have read the back before I ate my little Snickers bar THIS MORNING instead of 'when the sandman casts his spell'. Doh! But when you think about it: Why would someone eat candy right before going to bed? Who wrote this thing?

A dentist?

Late-Night Snack...

I made some popcorn a little while ago. It's not something I make very often, but I had a real taste for it tonight. And I'm not talkin' none of that air-popped crap! No-sir-eeeee! I poured some vegetable oil in a pot, threw in about a cup of kernels, and gave it a shake every now and then. Not only that, but I also doused it in melted butter and gave it a good BAM! of sea salt.

It was da-AMN good!

I crunched away on it while I spoke to Mrs. TBF who was crunching away on some Fritos at her mom's house. A beautiful moment, indeed. However, I have to admit that I was a bit jealous of the fact that Mrs. TBF was getting to enjoy the sacred Fritos.

Mmmmmm, Fritos! Llllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!*

But I'm not complaining. Really! Popcorn on a Sunday night is a pretty darn good snack. I am wondering about one thing, however:

Can I use bacon grease for popping popcorn?

Just askin'.


*simulated angelic singing

Fending For Myself...

Mrs. TBF and I buy our eggs from a local farm. We walk there (a couple of miles), pick out our organic eggs, drop the money into the mailbox, Mrs. TBF says "...thanks, girls!", and then we walk back home.

Aren't we just the greenest people you know? I mean, no car, walking to a local farm to buy organic eggs...

OK...I guess we're not really that green. But, we're trying!

So the best thing about these (in my opinion, overpriced) eggs is that Mrs. TBF uses them to make me an omelet every Sunday morning. Let me correct that: every Sunday morning when she is here.

This morning? She was in Chicago.

It's been a long time since I actually had to make an omelet myself on Sunday morning, but I managed...

...somehow!

It wasn't half-bad, but it definitely wasn't as good as the ones Mrs. TBF makes for me. Also, I didn't even think about the bacon (in the freezer) until the first forkful of omelet was in my mouth. So disorganized!

Mrs. TBF will return around 11:30 a.m. next Sunday morning. Would it be wrong of me to ask her to make me an omelet as soon as she gets home?

Um...thought so.

It's GOTTA Be A New Personal Record!

I put up all of our Christmas decorations yesterday!



Yes, you read that correctly. I - Mr. Scrooge - unpacked all of our Christmas decorations (including this one available at fartmart.com) yesterday and arranged them in whatever places looked good. Not only that, but upon playing Bing Crosby and David Bowie's Little Drummer Boy duet on the iPod just after midnight early Friday morning, I also declared the Christmas music season* officially begun. Our apartment is just oozing holiday cheer.

What the heck has gotten into me??? Am I mellowing in my old age? Who knows?

Mrs. TBF came home from work on Friday evening to a very different apartment from the one she left to go to work in the morning, and she seemed very appreciative. Everything is up except for the tree, and that won't happen until a couple of weeks from now. We had a nice dinner, enjoyed a little wine, went to bed...

...and then she got up at 4:30 this morning in order to catch a 5:45 a.m. taxi to the airport.

Yup, that's right: she's off to the U.S., and she won't be back until next Sunday.

I went with her to airport, saw her off, and then took the bus/tram back home. When I walked in the door at 7 a.m., King was complaining about me not having fed him before we left for the airport.

No appreciation!

I have to say that King has ABSOLUTELY NO HOLIDAY SPIRIT! Although I think he secretly likes the little Christmas bandana we make him wear this time of year.


*day after Thanksgiving until midnight on January 6th (Three Kings Day)

For What You Are About To Receive...

...you will be truly thankful.

Many people in America are tossing and turning in their beds right now due to their annual pre-thanksgiving turkey angst. Please, stop your worrying because THE BIG FINN is here to put you at ease.

HERE I COme to saVE THE DAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY!

Okay...

If your turkey is still in the freezer...YOU'RE SCREWED! It'll never defrost in time. Just go out for dinner at Old Country Buffet or some other place where you can strap on the feedbag for cheap. Trust me, the blow dryer won't work!!

However, if you have a fresh or thawed frozen turkey in the fridge, there's nothing to worry about. Break out your Weber grill, and you'll soon be eating some of the best turkey you've ever eaten.

But hey, enough of my blathering. Let's let the good people from Weber tell you how to do it. Here it is straight from the pamphlet that was included with the first Weber we purchased back in 1988:

Instructions for grilling the turkey using the indirect method.

Instructions on how to do the indirect method.

Here are a couple of our tips:

Forget the meat thermometer - you won't need it. We always just BBQ the turkey for 11 minutes per pound, and it's perfect EVERY SINGLE TIME!

We always Q the bird without stuffing. I've read that you can do it with the stuffing, but you have to add 2 minutes per pound to the cooking time. Mrs. TBF just squeezes the juice of a couple of lemons into the cavity before throwing in the sqeezed lemon halves. Then, she adds a mixture of various herbs and some crushed garlic cloves to "perfume" the bird.

Important: make sure you put some water in your drip pan. Otherwise, the skin of the turkey will turn black. I wouldn't recommend making gravy from the drippings because the drip pan will have little bits of charcoal in it, and who wants that in their gravy? Just make a gravy separately using the turkey giblets on your stove top.

Finally, let the turkey rest at least 15 minutes before carving it. We've actually let a turkey rest for about an hour before, and steam still came out of it when we sliced into it after an hour of resting.

And there you have it. Not only will you serve up one of the best tasting turkeys you've ever eaten in you life, but you'll also free up your oven for other things. Mrs. TBF can add some info in the comments in case I've forgotten anything, but...there you have it!

Oh, and us? We've already had our big Thanksgiving dinner this year. Rita and Eric were kind enough to host us (and a bunch of other people) at their house for Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings this past Saturday. Of course, I had to get my fingers a bit "dirty" by doing the post dinner preparation of the carcass for turkey soup.

Ummm...

What do you mean, what happened to the rest of the meat???

Thanks, But...I've Got To Wash My Hair!

Big news in Baselland! More specifically: big news for us regular riders of the No. 10 tram line.

TANGO IS HERE!!

What's Tango, you ask?

I'm not totally sure, but I think it's the model name of the new tram cars that are about to begin gliding along the tram tracks that we can see from our bedroom window.

Exciting stuff, huh?

But wait...there's more.

Baselland Transport (a.k.a. BLT) is pulling out all the stops and putting on a TANGO-Premier extravaganza the likes of which has never before been seen by the unsuspecting Swiss public! Yes, this Saturday - and THIS SATURDAY ONLY - between the hours of noon and 5 p.m., we have been invited to "discover the new Tram-Generation" with a FREE round-trip to the BLT depot in Oberwil where we'll receive a FREE bratwurst...a FREE beverage...a FREE film...AND a FREE dance show!

ZWWWWWWWooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOP! (That's supposed to be the sound of a record skipping!)

Ya had me...and then ya lost me!

Dance show? DANCE SHOW??? Umm...no! Ain't gonnna happen! Not me. Nope!

The dancing gene (for both enjoyment and execution) DEFINITELY did not get passed on from the parents to yours truly. There's NO WAY - despite the offer of a free bratwurst - that I'm going to sit through a dance show.

Hmmm...all you can eat bratwursts? Maybe.

Wait...what am I saying. NOPE!! NO WAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

However...

Just because I won't be there doesn't mean that every other person in Basel won't be packed into the tram cars like sardines. C'mon! Free bratwurst? Free ANYTHING?

FUGGEDABOUTIT!!! It'll be mayhem, I tell ya!

NOTE TO SELF: TAKE THE BUS THIS SATURDAY BETWEEN THE HOURS OF NOON AND 5 P.M.

Then again, I do expose myself to the possibility of running into the death cloud. But then, that's always a risk, and a risk I'm prepared to take in order to avoid the dance show mob.

I am, however, reasonably excited about the new tram cars. How will they be tricked out?

On-demand video entertainment?

iPod docks?

Wireless internet?

Death cloud neutralizer?

Early Thanksgiving Cravings...

We're down to the last few hours of Pippin's stay at our house. She's a really, REALLY good dog, and I'll be kind of sad to see her go. There is, however, one strange thing I've discovered about her.

She smells exactly like homemade turkey soup.

It's not a strong smell. But when you stick your nose into the back of her neck and take a whiff, you definitely get the smell of turkey soup that you've made using the Thanksgiving turkey carcass.

Oh, and remember how I said that we just let her sleep on our bed rather than telling her to sleep in her crate? It turns out that her favorite place to sleep is wedged right in between our pillows. Now my pillow smells...that's right...exactly like turkey soup.

I woke up this morning with Thanksgiving on my mind. Lucky for us, we're going to our friends' home for an early Thanksgiving dinner this weekend.

Can't wait! GOTTA wait! CAN'T WAIT!!!!!!

New Art In Da House!

There was an art exhibit in our town about a month ago. Seeing how there's not much else to do around here on a Sunday, we went. One of Mrs. TBF's colleagues from work is an artist/photographer when he's not spending time at his day job being Mrs. TBF's colleague, and he was showing some of his work. And lo and behold, we bought some of it.

His name is Timm Süss, and you can check out some of his work at his website.

Here are the three that we bought last month that I finally picked up from the artist last week. I'm a big fan of photographic art, and I especially liked Timm's reoccurring theme of decay.

And who knew that Timm's art would inspire performance art by yours truly?





Stare at photos on floor leaning against wall...

Stare at drill...

Stare at photos again...

Stare at drill...

Time decays and is reborn...

You may begin snapping your fingers now.

It Wasn't Me...HONEST!

There's nothing like getting on a bus, having the doors close behind you, and then being engulfed by the "death cloud". No...make that the OLD MAN DEATH CLOUD!!! That was our unfortunate situation this past Saturday after getting on the No. 34 bus at Hohle Gasse. Or should the stop be renamed: A. Hohle Gas?

...just came up with that one right now off the top of my head.

...pretty proud of that!

THIS DUDE was the culprit!

No...not me! The old dude...HONEST!

Diva Enablers!

We've been dog-sitting Pippin since this past Saturday evening. Our next-door neighbors in our old neighborhood had to go to Warsaw for a few days, so we told them we'd be happy to look after "the Pip".

A couple of days before Pippin was to arrive, her "mommy" (she wishes to remain anonymous) dropped off some of her supplies (crate, food, toys, etc.) and instructions for taking care of the Pip. Here are a few excerpts from those very detailed instructions:

...walks between 8:00 - 8:30 a.m. Lasts between 35 - 50 minutes.

...gets sausage treats on walk when she does not bark at other dogs.

...Pippin gets her "treat bag" after her morning walk. The big piece of treat is broken up into 6-8 pieces and hidden (not too hard) in her red blanket and you have to tell her to find. Do not put the blanket on the floor. It has to go on carpet because she does not like the plain floor - she slips too much.

...After her treats & blanket, you tell her it's breakfast time - one-third of a container of soft food.

...At lunch she gets a bag of hard food & 1 tbsp. of soft food with one slice of lunch meat (cut into small pieces).

...Maybe one or two sausage treats if she is good. Playtime with toys & she likes to bite hands. [TBF: You mean she has some stuffed toy hands that she likes to bite? Pip Mommy: No...she actually likes to bite your hands.]

...Suppertime is right after her afternoon walk which is around 4 p.m. (usually 20-30 minutes). Suppertime is bag of hard food & "Sunday chicken" [roasted chicken from grocery store].

...She may need some help jumping onto couches.

...She should go "potty" before bedtime, and her bedtime is between 10:30 - 11:00 p.m. Just tell her it's sleepy time and go to box and she will go in there. SHE GETS A MASSAGE & BELLY RUB [caps mine] before bed time.

I kind of teased Pip Mommy about the list when I first read it (TBF: You're joking, right? Pip Mommy: No, and I forgot to write down that she gets two strips of bacon with her breakfast on Sunday mornings.). But then I started to think back to the days when we had a dog, and I soon realized that we were just as guilty in diva creation. Our dog slept on our bed, got fed table scraps, and was not banned from using any piece of furniture as her own. We bought her Walker's shortbread cookies and Basler Leckerli (probably the only expat to actually like the taste of them) and gave them to her as treats. Oh yeah...plus the greatest dog treat of them all: stick your fingers in your dog's ears, rub them around a bit, and then let your dog lick her ear wax off of your fingers. Dogs LOVE it! Oh sure, you say it's gross now...but I GUARANTEE you you'll try it!

Oh...and telling the Pip to go in her box after her massage and belly rub? We wouldn't DREAM of it! She sleeps on our bed...wedged between our pillows.

Pippin appears to have even won over King.

Saturday evening.

Sunday morning.


Monday afternoon.