Debbi here … wondering how it is possible that another year has flown by. For me, it has been a year of discovery. I took some time off this year to think about what I really wanted to do next in life. I knew that I wanted to work for myself this time around – and Willie wholeheartedly supported that decision. So, in September, I formed Bifulco Business Solutions, LLC and started my own consulting practice. I already have several clients, with more to come. And what could be more perfect for me – I’m getting paid to give people advice! 
Some of the other highlights of the year …
We’ve had lots of family and friends visiting this year, which has been wonderful. My parents were here during the early summer and fall and are returning again in a few weeks for Christmas. And, Willie’s brother Philip and his wife Linda have been up from Alabama 4 times this year while visiting their youngest (our nephew) at West Point. We’ve really enjoyed spending time with them, and with our niece and. nephew We also hosted Thanksgiving here with 14 from the Bifulco family – what a fun day that was!
Virginia, Willie’s Mom, quit smoking nearly four months ago – we are rooting for her every day! And, my Mom passed a milestone this summer– 5 years cancer free!!
Willie had his gallbladder removed – even though they do it laproscopically now, it was still a relief when the doctors let me in to see him. He is feeling fine now, notwithstanding the four new holes in his belly!
We added to our family this year, too. Somehow, I found myself driving home one early spring day with a tiny black kitten, who Willie named Rocket. Cleo (our matronly cat) spends most of her time trying to get away from Rocket – who is just a total “teenager.” As much mischief as he gets into though, we find ourselves laughing (most of the time!) at his antics.
We also managed to squeeze in a 10 day trip to Italy in the spring – this time we spent a couple of days in Venice, then a week in a farmhouse in Tuscany. As always, we had a fabulous time, and I was able to practice my rudimentary Italian on the ever-patient locals.
Oh, and I went to Amsterdam for a long weekend in March with my best friend, Ellen. We had a wonderful time – even that early in the year, there were flowers everywhere!
So, it’s been another good year in the Meeks/Bifulco family!
And, now a “few” words from Willie…
“2 weeks should just about do it”
As I sit back one early Saturday morning, listening to the late Autumn sounds of whizzing bullets coming from the camouflage-wearing deer-exterminating militia (it’s the beginning of hunting season), I ponder this year’s Christmas letter while passively watching Rocket (the new kitten) on the old roll-top attempting to mate with our swivel-hipped Santa for all the marbles. Although I’m challenged beyond all mental capacity to comprehend how it is that we are within a whisper of saying goodbye to 2002, I decided to put fingers to keyboard and attempt to identify where the time has gone.
It seems as though it wasn’t but yesterday that Deb asked me to help dispose of last year’s Christmas tree - a task that would involve turning it into mulch and help put nutrients back into the soil from whence it came. Proudly…confidently…I proclaimed, “2 weeks should just about do it.” However, to this day it remains purposely hidden behind the woodshed so as not to remind us of yet another project that has fallen short of the vision, a vision that was once the source of great ecological-friendly pride.
As I delve deeper into the seemingly infinite depths of vast emptiness that has become my memory, I find yet another task that appears to have some relevance to where the time has gone. In early Spring, we realized that cedar mulch’s willingness to stay purposely hidden underneath the shrubbery (used by gardeners to hide plant roots that would otherwise go unburied) is subject to the whims, or should I say winds of Mother Nature. Once the sun’s mid-morning rays of early March found their final resting place upon the remaining mounds of snow, we realized that our finely manicured mulch-bed had decided to take flight (not unlike the guano-dropping Canadian geese that use our piece of the American dream as their personal rest area) and venture to parts unknown. That being the case, we visited our local garden center and arranged to have 5 yards (that breaks down to about “…honey, I think you over ordered!”) of the reddish-brown landscapers’ gold delivered to our little home on the hill. Unbeknownst by us at the time, we were late in the game to claim our prize. A future delivery was all that was available with the clerk assuring us that “2 weeks should just about do it.” Much to our dismay, a month had elapsed before delivery was made. Unlike last year’s stone delivery debacle for which we now can only enter our home under the darkness of night or be bludgeoned by our neighbors like Hester Prynne in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Scarlet Letter, we had the mulch delivered in the driveway instead of the street. Secretly terrified by this mountain of twigs and bark that placed our neighborhood into what seemed like a permanent eclipse, while contemplating the plan to disperse Mt. Andover throughout the shrubbery, I climbed atop this mound, stood defiantly, and declared, “2 weeks should just about do it.” Needless to say, many a week had passed before actual plant and human life would see the sun again.
My lovely bride continues to accept and support the antics associated with what I believe to be a well-deserved mid-life crisis. The current crisis theme revolves around an unquenchable thirst to travel at great speeds with my rear precariously hanging 2 inches off the payment. This is achieved under the guidance of more seniored men in crisis at the auto racing school of Skip Barber. My much anticipated July trip to Lime Rock speedway was quickly approaching, thus enabling me to become 1 step closer to racing other crisis-ridden, slightly balding, big-bellied athletes of yesteryear. Although risking untold degrees of retribution from my male brethren, I secretly planned further than the next meal and scheduled this 2-day class 6-months in advance of the actual July 8th event date. As luck would have it, during several painful post-dinner evenings [read as 3:00am], I found myself awakened by what I believed was self-inflicted WEBER-itis…(a.k.a. under-cooked BBQ). Several painful attacks, a trip or two to the local emergency room, and several follow-up visits to various Doctors proved I was accumulating gall bladder stones quicker than Martha Stewart was unloading shares of ImClone. Don’t despair, in early June when we spoke to my surgeon about the gall bladder removal, he anticipated and responded to every question with the confidence-inspiring deftness of a Top Gun pilot. With my racing school date on the horizon, when asked about my recovery time, Dr. Fantastic once again displayed the awe-inspiring razor-sharp accuracy of Rolex’s Oyster Perpetual Cosmograph watch and proclaimed, “2 weeks should just about do it.” …needless to say, I never got to racing school until August.
With our quest to compete for the much coveted neighborhood green thumb award, and all health concerns behind us, in August we decided to take to task the building of a natural rock wall in the front yard. Heck, Bob Vila practically does this every Sunday morning during his 30-minute TV show. Knowing however that our expertise in this area could use some strengthening, an exhaustive rock wall Internet research venture was launched – one that was supported by no less than 3 trips to the local Home Depot “How To” book section. Armed with newfound confidence, leather gloves and time on our hands, I climbed atop the rubble that would keep future generations of archeologists busy for all eternity, and confidently declared, “2 weeks should just about do it.” Well, I felt we were on solid footing (every pun intended) with this project because we had the added benefit of living on what could only be the most densely populated rock farm known throughout NJ. Where we live, you virtually cannot throw a glass house without hitting a stone!
OK, so this one really got away from us…but not without a nasty letter being fired off to Mr. Vila. How far away you ask, well it was officially completed about a week ago. But in all fairness, we had to stop often to pass out from exhaustion.
So, here we are, another year has come and gone, but two things are certain. All future projects will have an out clause – 2-week projects will not be permitted to go beyond 30 days. And, this letter might be a little late as we planned on sending this year’s Christmas card with the belief that “2 weeks should just about do it”
Have a Healthy and Safe Holiday Season!
Some of the other highlights of the year …
We’ve had lots of family and friends visiting this year, which has been wonderful. My parents were here during the early summer and fall and are returning again in a few weeks for Christmas. And, Willie’s brother Philip and his wife Linda have been up from Alabama 4 times this year while visiting their youngest (our nephew) at West Point. We’ve really enjoyed spending time with them, and with our niece and. nephew We also hosted Thanksgiving here with 14 from the Bifulco family – what a fun day that was!
Virginia, Willie’s Mom, quit smoking nearly four months ago – we are rooting for her every day! And, my Mom passed a milestone this summer– 5 years cancer free!!
Willie had his gallbladder removed – even though they do it laproscopically now, it was still a relief when the doctors let me in to see him. He is feeling fine now, notwithstanding the four new holes in his belly!
We added to our family this year, too. Somehow, I found myself driving home one early spring day with a tiny black kitten, who Willie named Rocket. Cleo (our matronly cat) spends most of her time trying to get away from Rocket – who is just a total “teenager.” As much mischief as he gets into though, we find ourselves laughing (most of the time!) at his antics.
We also managed to squeeze in a 10 day trip to Italy in the spring – this time we spent a couple of days in Venice, then a week in a farmhouse in Tuscany. As always, we had a fabulous time, and I was able to practice my rudimentary Italian on the ever-patient locals.
Oh, and I went to Amsterdam for a long weekend in March with my best friend, Ellen. We had a wonderful time – even that early in the year, there were flowers everywhere!
So, it’s been another good year in the Meeks/Bifulco family!
And, now a “few” words from Willie…
“2 weeks should just about do it”
As I sit back one early Saturday morning, listening to the late Autumn sounds of whizzing bullets coming from the camouflage-wearing deer-exterminating militia (it’s the beginning of hunting season), I ponder this year’s Christmas letter while passively watching Rocket (the new kitten) on the old roll-top attempting to mate with our swivel-hipped Santa for all the marbles. Although I’m challenged beyond all mental capacity to comprehend how it is that we are within a whisper of saying goodbye to 2002, I decided to put fingers to keyboard and attempt to identify where the time has gone.
It seems as though it wasn’t but yesterday that Deb asked me to help dispose of last year’s Christmas tree - a task that would involve turning it into mulch and help put nutrients back into the soil from whence it came. Proudly…confidently…I proclaimed, “2 weeks should just about do it.” However, to this day it remains purposely hidden behind the woodshed so as not to remind us of yet another project that has fallen short of the vision, a vision that was once the source of great ecological-friendly pride.
As I delve deeper into the seemingly infinite depths of vast emptiness that has become my memory, I find yet another task that appears to have some relevance to where the time has gone. In early Spring, we realized that cedar mulch’s willingness to stay purposely hidden underneath the shrubbery (used by gardeners to hide plant roots that would otherwise go unburied) is subject to the whims, or should I say winds of Mother Nature. Once the sun’s mid-morning rays of early March found their final resting place upon the remaining mounds of snow, we realized that our finely manicured mulch-bed had decided to take flight (not unlike the guano-dropping Canadian geese that use our piece of the American dream as their personal rest area) and venture to parts unknown. That being the case, we visited our local garden center and arranged to have 5 yards (that breaks down to about “…honey, I think you over ordered!”) of the reddish-brown landscapers’ gold delivered to our little home on the hill. Unbeknownst by us at the time, we were late in the game to claim our prize. A future delivery was all that was available with the clerk assuring us that “2 weeks should just about do it.” Much to our dismay, a month had elapsed before delivery was made. Unlike last year’s stone delivery debacle for which we now can only enter our home under the darkness of night or be bludgeoned by our neighbors like Hester Prynne in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Scarlet Letter, we had the mulch delivered in the driveway instead of the street. Secretly terrified by this mountain of twigs and bark that placed our neighborhood into what seemed like a permanent eclipse, while contemplating the plan to disperse Mt. Andover throughout the shrubbery, I climbed atop this mound, stood defiantly, and declared, “2 weeks should just about do it.” Needless to say, many a week had passed before actual plant and human life would see the sun again.
My lovely bride continues to accept and support the antics associated with what I believe to be a well-deserved mid-life crisis. The current crisis theme revolves around an unquenchable thirst to travel at great speeds with my rear precariously hanging 2 inches off the payment. This is achieved under the guidance of more seniored men in crisis at the auto racing school of Skip Barber. My much anticipated July trip to Lime Rock speedway was quickly approaching, thus enabling me to become 1 step closer to racing other crisis-ridden, slightly balding, big-bellied athletes of yesteryear. Although risking untold degrees of retribution from my male brethren, I secretly planned further than the next meal and scheduled this 2-day class 6-months in advance of the actual July 8th event date. As luck would have it, during several painful post-dinner evenings [read as 3:00am], I found myself awakened by what I believed was self-inflicted WEBER-itis…(a.k.a. under-cooked BBQ). Several painful attacks, a trip or two to the local emergency room, and several follow-up visits to various Doctors proved I was accumulating gall bladder stones quicker than Martha Stewart was unloading shares of ImClone. Don’t despair, in early June when we spoke to my surgeon about the gall bladder removal, he anticipated and responded to every question with the confidence-inspiring deftness of a Top Gun pilot. With my racing school date on the horizon, when asked about my recovery time, Dr. Fantastic once again displayed the awe-inspiring razor-sharp accuracy of Rolex’s Oyster Perpetual Cosmograph watch and proclaimed, “2 weeks should just about do it.” …needless to say, I never got to racing school until August.
With our quest to compete for the much coveted neighborhood green thumb award, and all health concerns behind us, in August we decided to take to task the building of a natural rock wall in the front yard. Heck, Bob Vila practically does this every Sunday morning during his 30-minute TV show. Knowing however that our expertise in this area could use some strengthening, an exhaustive rock wall Internet research venture was launched – one that was supported by no less than 3 trips to the local Home Depot “How To” book section. Armed with newfound confidence, leather gloves and time on our hands, I climbed atop the rubble that would keep future generations of archeologists busy for all eternity, and confidently declared, “2 weeks should just about do it.” Well, I felt we were on solid footing (every pun intended) with this project because we had the added benefit of living on what could only be the most densely populated rock farm known throughout NJ. Where we live, you virtually cannot throw a glass house without hitting a stone!
OK, so this one really got away from us…but not without a nasty letter being fired off to Mr. Vila. How far away you ask, well it was officially completed about a week ago. But in all fairness, we had to stop often to pass out from exhaustion.
So, here we are, another year has come and gone, but two things are certain. All future projects will have an out clause – 2-week projects will not be permitted to go beyond 30 days. And, this letter might be a little late as we planned on sending this year’s Christmas card with the belief that “2 weeks should just about do it”
Have a Healthy and Safe Holiday Season!
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