tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15479235391933515202024-02-06T22:15:59.941-05:00What Has She Done Now?Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.comBlogger319125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-1395358477068016142013-01-15T19:13:00.001-05:002013-01-15T19:13:06.190-05:00New Year New Blogger Resolution I am not one to make lofty resolutions, why set yourself up for disappointment? This year my goal is to keep you all updated on a more regular basis via my blog. My life has been such a journey last year, but that's all in the past. Upward and onward. <br />
First thing on this years agenda....throw out all dressings on the refrigerator door with expiration dates before the year 2007. Baby steps.Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-75029511267451839762012-08-31T20:01:00.001-04:002012-09-01T18:55:58.915-04:00Flash Forward Two years ago I headed down south to a sleepy little town called Apalachicola. It is a quaint place in Florida's panhandle, that reminded me a lot of Oxford on the eastern shore of Maryland. I was helping a friend move after a divorce, and I had a few wounds of my own that needed time and distance to heal. During my month down there I meet a lot of people. One was a gallery owner and we hit it off instantly. Go figure... me and someone artistic becoming friends. Well, her gallery manager is expecting, so I got a call. How would I like to fill in at "The Green Door" during her maternity leave? Let's think....YES!!!!<br />
The Green Door is an eclectic mix of gallery, furnishings and retail. I will fit in perfectly. Check out their website <a href="http://www.amysgreendoor.com/">www.amysgreendoor.com</a>. <br />
Before giving a definite answer I had a few bases to cover. Home being the most important. I needed to talk it over with Tom. After discussing the pros and cons, we agreed that our relationship could weather the time apart. Tom really gets me. He said, "Terry if I say no, I don't want you to go, I would be holding you back from something you really want to do. If I say," yeah, go ahead" then I sound like I don't care". "I'm kind of in between a rock and a hard place". In the end he let me make my own decision, and I can't tell you how much that meant to me. <br />
Two weeks after making my decision to head south, I got a call from a gallery owner in Annapolis, Liz Lind Editions, would I like to come work for her. I worked the month of August for her, but alas the dye is cast. I leave for Apalachicola Wednesday, September 5th, returning sometime in November. It's a nice feeling... to be wanted.Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-45755039708101634942012-07-24T11:45:00.001-04:002012-07-24T11:45:32.751-04:00One Man DownAfter the day on the lake and arriving at our beautiful little casa I am a little hesitant to get on the bike for our "gentle rolling hill" bike, but I gear up and expect the worse. It was actually the best ride of the trip. It was about 7 miles to a great little coffee spot and then 7 miles back. There were a few sharp turns and gravel roads, but all and all a very pleasant ride, for me anyway. After coffee Tom and I headed back, because after a full day I like to try to grab a nap before dinner. We made it back in no time and decided to sit by the pool and wait for the others.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOdAKBRbr4BOD3YfLIXYT7SgIVGADSxYzeOPTED9nENCmiQTO7uaSdVrf9Qy8msO2KeKwbiacypkHZpc4c5cWxNnmjggmFqWsOH36RK73NCsjpz9XJaBkGANG-OWVka-yBqst5cOuVRD0/s1600/145.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOdAKBRbr4BOD3YfLIXYT7SgIVGADSxYzeOPTED9nENCmiQTO7uaSdVrf9Qy8msO2KeKwbiacypkHZpc4c5cWxNnmjggmFqWsOH36RK73NCsjpz9XJaBkGANG-OWVka-yBqst5cOuVRD0/s200/145.JPG" width="200" /></a><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3FPQqhOHIT4Gpf3tTrlkZIhjekvDSXfjFBMHiFSQbG3ONbhqB65GY0uCj3YnXeFnLsGYLorUZimxZzPPEn0Iv5LrlOWa9wLCmUKpBLvRf7Zz2aFoyJ7SxxRnIMFrzdNEY5mcRBfAhWIA/s320/138.JPG" width="320" /> About 10 minutes later Sandy come riding up on the back of a motorcycle, and I am secretly envious that she has come up with such a great plan to avoid any further hills. She gets off very slowly and we find out that she had a bad spill on the sharp turn where the loose gravel was. Later we came to learn she broke 2 ribs. Her husband Paul, who is an orthopedic surgeon, thought the best course of action would be not to go to a Central American hospital, they don't do much for broken ribs anyway. Needless to say that was the end of Sandy's riding, and again I am a little envious.</div>Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-1796225788872192072012-07-24T11:26:00.000-04:002012-07-24T11:26:26.527-04:00Great Little CabanasAnother perk of these trip are the places we stay in. They are always clean and unique in style. After the day on Lake Arenal we are dropped at the edge of a path that leads us to our next little place in Paradise. We each have our own little casa facing the lake. Just sitting out on our veranda is worth the price of this whole trip. The view is spectacular, once again photos do not do justice.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4quZWSRywzpz_3JwrW-5wal7pOOJl8Ynl24HQdYICvmnfyTuKW34lR7U0yRbsnv4dTOWJyCKaqGZr_7_JERO79p7Lt-Eow2zNVCYMibVGwEJy58rQ7CU3kO0j6-36zu7r36Mxf1Fk6z4/s1600/126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4quZWSRywzpz_3JwrW-5wal7pOOJl8Ynl24HQdYICvmnfyTuKW34lR7U0yRbsnv4dTOWJyCKaqGZr_7_JERO79p7Lt-Eow2zNVCYMibVGwEJy58rQ7CU3kO0j6-36zu7r36Mxf1Fk6z4/s320/126.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIGvv1w-JUPdDLnVf49gNzBh5TCBTst_AjOP_yPeHEWJHq9k0EPYOXqAF74iTUi9re_HmaTUMJLtkEAgdCeQybtmfd_P4u4623arTNeB2FkR4sExEzoVFl6_mZOm4CRm7E6DB9-poMjtg/s1600/129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIGvv1w-JUPdDLnVf49gNzBh5TCBTst_AjOP_yPeHEWJHq9k0EPYOXqAF74iTUi9re_HmaTUMJLtkEAgdCeQybtmfd_P4u4623arTNeB2FkR4sExEzoVFl6_mZOm4CRm7E6DB9-poMjtg/s320/129.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivrcY7l2sNRRo5GBfoaEFHmd61s01nmQkjh_N_UvrmAjUHh2ERZZ3bqAC_nLHEPCBFS_lG1JE_QAjC45MT91_jPARTGdBeZFNVIHQ7mX_RRveJsv2d1s1_W60F2G8HHGH0YlbNdznoIos/s1600/132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivrcY7l2sNRRo5GBfoaEFHmd61s01nmQkjh_N_UvrmAjUHh2ERZZ3bqAC_nLHEPCBFS_lG1JE_QAjC45MT91_jPARTGdBeZFNVIHQ7mX_RRveJsv2d1s1_W60F2G8HHGH0YlbNdznoIos/s320/132.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL0BzExfVCvPXw6FYz7tSRc2YaoeixWfdYhOpVBTGCpcYNPBf60jRxROkeweb6j9slq0fsLUaZreqPq7XKyM_cEYu5xWZBr-H8wRoNQ1VV5u19AiGbF7YgpVQEwcXkakGKikPp7zElY-Q/s1600/133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL0BzExfVCvPXw6FYz7tSRc2YaoeixWfdYhOpVBTGCpcYNPBf60jRxROkeweb6j9slq0fsLUaZreqPq7XKyM_cEYu5xWZBr-H8wRoNQ1VV5u19AiGbF7YgpVQEwcXkakGKikPp7zElY-Q/s320/133.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrqFTcP3_8i_JmBG0PhgKMbKvqcXA8mip9PsZ2VJ6RHS2fLPFMoLMO89cYKFpnAAZDmJqcQ24UOQr7vyksLEQl6zK6ijUpH8Mab60ZtavhjduHWM72Ae-T4yOon2c5xtJDi-i79sbbU38/s1600/140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrqFTcP3_8i_JmBG0PhgKMbKvqcXA8mip9PsZ2VJ6RHS2fLPFMoLMO89cYKFpnAAZDmJqcQ24UOQr7vyksLEQl6zK6ijUpH8Mab60ZtavhjduHWM72Ae-T4yOon2c5xtJDi-i79sbbU38/s320/140.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-90297086118485217312012-07-20T12:30:00.000-04:002012-07-20T12:30:37.891-04:00Not Just A Bike Trip<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCLCiz5RDbSXubv0wxXSEdfAX9u7rFpcoTXCy6OWyjcqPQCEtyP3BRD9hKeRbEaMHbnsJpioiRk9AZJXhRcPon1HMKafzq5T6EvVmbfziKlveakSV5JjfbvGdoxDt2NT8Zf3zzT5p-JgE/s320/066.JPG" width="240" /></div>
One of the nice things about these organized bike trips is they do all the planning. It is not just ride from point A to B. On day 3 they have planned a boat ride on Lake Arenal, but not before an uphill climb on the bike. Nothing comes easy, after the climb up we need to walk down about 1/4 mile to where our boat awaits. This is Sandy being assisted down the loose gravel road. Once on the boat we are treated to a grilled lunch of chicken, baked potato, garden salad and flan for dessert. It was a lovely setting and the food was delish. Somehow food always taste better when you've worked for it.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzho-eILqHkJrYOs0PZzX2BEdHzg8oo85qJwNn8555hoRj9I4g4M5kzFyuzQSpR4mDCx7nnSJtMvI2g6SbsQ5jBuiZnzLtdsxFqeGc4nOARBrLL6e0G3Mjm5l5bYsL2s9Lfe-EX6FcxOg/s1600/114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzho-eILqHkJrYOs0PZzX2BEdHzg8oo85qJwNn8555hoRj9I4g4M5kzFyuzQSpR4mDCx7nnSJtMvI2g6SbsQ5jBuiZnzLtdsxFqeGc4nOARBrLL6e0G3Mjm5l5bYsL2s9Lfe-EX6FcxOg/s320/114.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtSjuIqAwE0dso3Et_N-1ClIkjJ7F459wnTKZuPK5F9xhRPQuBaScV8UEUXYjqNyaaxj3E0NqNn3ayKn3p6rBDvhWM057_eqx_wSCDM3XOrKUc37LUNsPzZO_dO6V_-ShhREVT6006EKY/s1600/123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtSjuIqAwE0dso3Et_N-1ClIkjJ7F459wnTKZuPK5F9xhRPQuBaScV8UEUXYjqNyaaxj3E0NqNn3ayKn3p6rBDvhWM057_eqx_wSCDM3XOrKUc37LUNsPzZO_dO6V_-ShhREVT6006EKY/s320/123.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCEz1btQCeEhXCevC72sFRU-k1BbhyEiCbDYIZ47ZXj8ygHv6rJSTeNUJn7GauJHCrFnpjphwrGAUVQvAfIhzQIDVdjUjzjhvsBJ3vaWxwCvU3TB9LqK5iTnzDOvQQdiLm25c3E8X__O8/s1600/124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCEz1btQCeEhXCevC72sFRU-k1BbhyEiCbDYIZ47ZXj8ygHv6rJSTeNUJn7GauJHCrFnpjphwrGAUVQvAfIhzQIDVdjUjzjhvsBJ3vaWxwCvU3TB9LqK5iTnzDOvQQdiLm25c3E8X__O8/s320/124.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-69419527575939806952012-06-21T07:01:00.000-04:002012-08-31T20:16:08.821-04:00Gentle Rolling Hills Before I continue on my whining spree I just need to give you my description of gentle rolling hills. They are small or medium slopes in the road. The kind that going down one hill takes you 3/4 of the way up the next hill. If you every get on a 5 mile stretch of this kind of road it is a bikers dream, unless of course there is no shoulder and you are passed by semi's and RV's all day. On day 2 we take a different direction up the same volcano. <br />
Around mile 5 we stop at a local farmer's that our guide knows personally. I am now of the mind set, anything to get off the bike is okay by me. This is how you see our bikes arranged at such a stop. My only hope is my bike is gone before the first climb.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbfzxKphQ0nSq0mFpzN4HRnIUV-XA6i3anzb0eux6wh8YyizCqpqYA7FKVgHIcpW7BA8F41F25A-C31HxExPvO6e1c-Y0lTEPHbPXpvMSmz3H0qgHNp2kE8pvthpH7nXCtcezvpvTSg9M/s1600/035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbfzxKphQ0nSq0mFpzN4HRnIUV-XA6i3anzb0eux6wh8YyizCqpqYA7FKVgHIcpW7BA8F41F25A-C31HxExPvO6e1c-Y0lTEPHbPXpvMSmz3H0qgHNp2kE8pvthpH7nXCtcezvpvTSg9M/s1600/035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbfzxKphQ0nSq0mFpzN4HRnIUV-XA6i3anzb0eux6wh8YyizCqpqYA7FKVgHIcpW7BA8F41F25A-C31HxExPvO6e1c-Y0lTEPHbPXpvMSmz3H0qgHNp2kE8pvthpH7nXCtcezvpvTSg9M/s320/035.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPcTdbfdXqpvcaYmY6cXnG4NpZ3mmRk_heclNTDt23sF99Jo0XOREo1PdE4RI1ZbhNd2TZ658ZJKo_dapcZLpUgqf1sqPvaxev9YHnkQQxYKu7l3UJoD1EwZtTi_9k6oJlNwKd5TS1J5U/s1600/029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPcTdbfdXqpvcaYmY6cXnG4NpZ3mmRk_heclNTDt23sF99Jo0XOREo1PdE4RI1ZbhNd2TZ658ZJKo_dapcZLpUgqf1sqPvaxev9YHnkQQxYKu7l3UJoD1EwZtTi_9k6oJlNwKd5TS1J5U/s200/029.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
The fruit was delicious. The papaya was so fresh, but I guess that's because it was right off the vine. We drank coconut milk out of the shell. Now for those of you who have never had coconut milk aside from in a pina colada, it is sweet. Sickening sweet to be precise.<br />
Our gracious host thought it best for each of us to have our own coconut. I only took a small sip and gave a big "Yummy", Tom on the other hand drank like it was elixir of the gods.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSmfL-yvIg5ja5xIpkMf5kdOFKSFtsy_IdTbFktJX8lCDk9q-YJIQwOHJXY7sS59X0Iwq90H1VKngIVBim9q-L5oUnJH0i_6UoKdOD3p_mzDyiTzgRRi9pUUuECly0epDDQH_MQdn9IxU/s1600/036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSmfL-yvIg5ja5xIpkMf5kdOFKSFtsy_IdTbFktJX8lCDk9q-YJIQwOHJXY7sS59X0Iwq90H1VKngIVBim9q-L5oUnJH0i_6UoKdOD3p_mzDyiTzgRRi9pUUuECly0epDDQH_MQdn9IxU/s200/036.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqCT2PKxUPCB1mcBTVAPuhmEmAWDUVWPIT1LRm8SlxxLR5Om0SxtsOKYkvoUtHJQA6-LXLupeTbSsg2at5b9QcdVMLRiJqtcz48pIwqdHoidebx1Rc0dnD1OUvxw_MubM23UKeSnvS5Ok/s1600/038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqCT2PKxUPCB1mcBTVAPuhmEmAWDUVWPIT1LRm8SlxxLR5Om0SxtsOKYkvoUtHJQA6-LXLupeTbSsg2at5b9QcdVMLRiJqtcz48pIwqdHoidebx1Rc0dnD1OUvxw_MubM23UKeSnvS5Ok/s200/038.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgObRzfovtU0Rlr4Y6_XZRe838X8P6aU3MMpqDjuOLxWQhFadwvBA4-khnA9VVywFeOeDiFfnYwDkZ_4zvo_lRDredYvgIeP2KpUsEsqGOJGmAsHd7HCY6Yl_kKTQreElixHxBTPwcxCUo/s1600/041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgObRzfovtU0Rlr4Y6_XZRe838X8P6aU3MMpqDjuOLxWQhFadwvBA4-khnA9VVywFeOeDiFfnYwDkZ_4zvo_lRDredYvgIeP2KpUsEsqGOJGmAsHd7HCY6Yl_kKTQreElixHxBTPwcxCUo/s320/041.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-82860278078875944692012-06-16T10:13:00.003-04:002012-06-17T07:14:04.778-04:00Meet the Gang<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaTszyGREYdsV2GT6OiENVSg6vErQb2PfeA_IdBttrkoGk4Ua9R5FhDoIzH26-78nV0zOubjNu9_peBBaAFo8nL8bZC3-WbGIRjr9zCkfgNBY1SDLug0KKLnAM1QZowrWBT1DDAHTpxIY/s1600/045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaTszyGREYdsV2GT6OiENVSg6vErQb2PfeA_IdBttrkoGk4Ua9R5FhDoIzH26-78nV0zOubjNu9_peBBaAFo8nL8bZC3-WbGIRjr9zCkfgNBY1SDLug0KKLnAM1QZowrWBT1DDAHTpxIY/s320/045.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
This is a very small group compared to the other bike trips I have been on. That probably should have been my first clue. From left to right we have Les, a landscaper from San Francisco, Sandy a devote J.A.P., me, I guess the high tops were a dead give away, Tom, no description necessary and Paul, an orthopedic surgeon and Sandy's husband. <br />
Our first day, only 18 miles, starts at the base of the Arenal Volcano region. Starting at the base of anything should have been my 2nd clue.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW4Jpo7XDsYpxFfFHXpkIt5MzJuMIjpt6sO8YCMMd3580zWTTtkZhQjezcBiJT7M2RrbRbCjh3GdhTofAiX9s7uMJQla55oNzmlYOh1lUxLwXkWMi0_x731pOsBAZ3ulBSqd_WMKcYDE0/s1600/015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW4Jpo7XDsYpxFfFHXpkIt5MzJuMIjpt6sO8YCMMd3580zWTTtkZhQjezcBiJT7M2RrbRbCjh3GdhTofAiX9s7uMJQla55oNzmlYOh1lUxLwXkWMi0_x731pOsBAZ3ulBSqd_WMKcYDE0/s320/015.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMr4-MW2g3AdMsgK5l9vbUf7X_64i6U85xWNegcJ9Gx4VlZK0hWHiaUeAhS3b4g07wGxYcjMswyhO2f9DPN17Y687-lkzfjIlZxaXk0Z6lEzkqPwdDKgraomSGBkse3dWRA_1tbvUlx80/s1600/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMr4-MW2g3AdMsgK5l9vbUf7X_64i6U85xWNegcJ9Gx4VlZK0hWHiaUeAhS3b4g07wGxYcjMswyhO2f9DPN17Y687-lkzfjIlZxaXk0Z6lEzkqPwdDKgraomSGBkse3dWRA_1tbvUlx80/s320/020.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
. Our first stop is Iguanaville, for obvious reasons. Tourist are brought here by the bus loads to snap photo after photo of these prehistoric creatures. I know this because this is my 3rd visit on 3 separate trips to this location, albeit never in a bus. It really is amazing to see thousands of these beauty's just lounge on the tree branches. It is not the stop for the reptile squeamish.<br />
After about 10 minute of oohing and awing we are off to start our first climb. Did I mention this is only an 18 mile ride? 18 miles is something I can usually do before breakfast, not so much if it's all uphill. By about mile 5 with an 8percent grade I am not happy. Sandy is still on her bike, so I'm not stopping. By mile 5.5 Sandy is walking her bike uphill and I am in granny gear (the lowest) barely moving. Mile 7 Sandy calls it quits and I thank Baby Jesus that she has stopped. I ride maybe another inch before I follow suit. We get in the support van and proceed to tell each other all the things wrong with our bikes. I drink a gallon of water and just hope that my face is not confused with a tomato to be used on anybodys lunch. So much for gentle rolling hills.Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-7255039683996231472012-06-16T09:27:00.002-04:002012-06-16T09:37:12.247-04:00Latest Bike Adventure One of the toughest parts about not keeping up with your blog is having to go back in your calendar to see what it is you've done. That's right, I'm at the age where short term memory is shot.<br />
So bear with me as I take you back in time, February 2012 to Costa Rica and my latest bike adventure.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm0gzDsAk7OpU0X5cndfwScaowNeLV5h3maqG9wuByEvClEZIyKz71wau6vVwVpgWiemt0446lfy3dPMMD5Bs2kP60Y_mRK1c0ZimPgDxsMWHOugKW4ENA9hXc1zxIJVQZuPbUSSSR9PI/s1600/083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm0gzDsAk7OpU0X5cndfwScaowNeLV5h3maqG9wuByEvClEZIyKz71wau6vVwVpgWiemt0446lfy3dPMMD5Bs2kP60Y_mRK1c0ZimPgDxsMWHOugKW4ENA9hXc1zxIJVQZuPbUSSSR9PI/s320/083.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
This is not my first trip to this part of Central America, it is actually my 5th. I always knew the bike company I travel with offered a bike trip through Cost Rica, but I also knew the terrain was very hilly with no shoulders and the drivers were all Indy 500 want-to-be's. After reading the description in the brochure, rolling hills and a ranking of 201, I book it figuring we must be riding an entirely different part of the country. I usually ride 301 tours, so this should be no problem. This is also Tom's introduction to a biking vacation. Oh boy, are we in for a surprise.Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-71757529041267278692012-06-15T08:18:00.001-04:002012-06-15T08:18:40.947-04:00I'mmmm Baaaccckkk!It has been so long since my last post (6 months), that the entire site has been revamped. Now I pride myself on being someone who thrives on change, but when it come to techy things, not so much. I am probably the only person alive that considers blogging "techy", but then again I still don't own a cell phone. Not to worry... I will work my way threw the changes because my 3 followers have let me know that I have been missed. It's gives me a fuzzy feeling to know there are those of you who are actually interested in what is going on in my life. Thank you Sara, Rachel and Curtis. So go fix yourself a beverage of choice, sit back and enjoy the ride, or curl up with great sleeping material.Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-31983002659843378962012-01-26T06:55:00.007-05:002012-01-26T17:49:14.570-05:00......Baby It's The Guitar Man.I have found that one of the things that takes me away from all my cares and woes is music. I can listen to anything for a short time and know if I will buy the song or entire CD. And lets face it, is there anything sexier then a guy playing an acoustic guitar?<br /><br /><br />Last night I went to Rams Head to see Griffin House. I am always amazed at the art of storytelling musicians possess. A broken heart always sounds better with an acoustic guitar to accompany it. And we all know that every love song was written just for us.<br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 263px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701911752505186306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHtgLKCMJhIRn5uVv74t02aSEjNY02TcXJb8iA4M6Gq50Pfv3oUfvdycwUPp6nTksjAKSr-SjZfgT90ciSHNPUj0p_T37YCgCS0cVF_iaPJ8L6JhRlYqdTtygOwP0Vto61jIGayI-wRzg/s320/griffin-house1.jpg" />The best part of last nights concert was the opening act, Matthew Perryman Jones. He was an excellent musician that until last night I had never heard of. In between his 3rd and 4th song the guy at my table shouted out a request. I thought, "Oh great!! Why do I always sit at the table with the Bozo". Anyway.... Matthew and Josh carried on a conversation for the rest of the show. It was great, and of course it was just a cover for Matthew to look at me for the rest of the evening. "My Blog, My Fantasy". Apparently the song requested had not been played or thought of for 50 years, so he'd do his best. It was my favorite song of his set.<br /><br /><br />Matthew had a gift of storytelling that went far beyond his lyrics. In between songs his rapport with Josh and the rest of the audience was charming. He told us about one of his songs being used for a television show. He gathered all his family and friends to watch, in his words, "This awful teeny bopper show", and he never heard his song. Did he miss it? Did anyone else hear it? Then finally in the last 5 minutes of the show the song came on, and started playing, he gets all excited about hearing HIS SONG, then 30 seconds into it the star of the show jumps off a cliff, the audience roared with laughter. After his set he came by the table and talked to Josh until Griffin's show started. I left with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 220px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 243px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701911747393284818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpI75ipqfBfIcAj-P6RTGNelw3ELMiE5v7_QpoQqJ_tKTXpa0AvYxWsdr99aCGyP8bDEGou2gf_f7SR98ykYwXZr-CJeVvxGYoyFkys0vgOKRtPuSY57-8s83wguYkQuyeN8SDDRQxuwE/s320/220px-Matthew_perryman_jones.jpg" />Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-74410813533979105762012-01-04T17:10:00.003-05:002012-01-06T07:09:58.046-05:00Warmer ClimatesLuckily for me Tom dislikes cold weather as much as I do, so in November we headed to Orlando for a long weekend. Then in December off to Cancun. We were total tourists, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">snorkeling</span>, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">parasailing</span> and I actually took a scuba lesson. Our hotel had a pool that was 18 ft deep and was designed to look like a Disney attraction. All sort of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">faux</span> coral and colorful fish. It made the scuba a relaxing and pleasurable experience, but I'm sure that was partially because I wasn't worried about Jaws swimming around the corner. We'll see if I take lessons at home.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694488333593279922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim_gPf6ps_xLSwzBYoMTNFCmdspe2kodY5MsiX0jlGOd-XqHk13MWVkf52hONxrTbK2I7suU6mm2i5PFl7BmUSrW7dFCHQ1UWExfmePuaMS1PWunHXVz43iPDC0ZxohXlFHWcarq5G-qU/s320/Cancun_Joyride.jpg" />Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-58140961283566012032012-01-04T16:34:00.007-05:002012-01-04T17:09:26.554-05:00She's Back!!!!!<div><br /><div><br /><div>I have no excuses.... Rachel and Sara with 3 children each seem to be able to keep up with their blogs, so even if I could come up with an excuse it wouldn't really mean much. Suffice it to say, I am now going to make more of an effort. I mean some people hang on every word I print, how must they have felt when the blogging came to a stand still in August. To one and all I apologize.<br /><br /><br /><div>Now a quick catch up.</div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693901828907742786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlb87EjdQJEJIYyQf5RDippsbxSihHxT8k5mbUpCg9WOpN3yCitHNqzu0hutjbJTSTskn-JdFDQgE1hDhVnJm8Llkun_7i953aUQjdeYIQspzmLc1oJVF06MrhuyWhbhBQi2F2VLQf5kw/s400/032.JPG" /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0oxH7vxMnspStOyT7-7s8zZWxUyzzYAjm0fsmXrBE7mc5lnXiUYyMzTKoUcpYVcWhTqPSapI6sy4oE6gZdon0Gl5Ig1NVweHPKvWDwWahgb8jjEvXigAcJrPqucJca267aSLqJL91UAY/s1600/057.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693899477032089506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0oxH7vxMnspStOyT7-7s8zZWxUyzzYAjm0fsmXrBE7mc5lnXiUYyMzTKoUcpYVcWhTqPSapI6sy4oE6gZdon0Gl5Ig1NVweHPKvWDwWahgb8jjEvXigAcJrPqucJca267aSLqJL91UAY/s200/057.JPG" /></a><br />In October I biked from Charleston to Savannah with my friend Susan. The South is truly gentile. I loved Charleston, the homes, the parks, the history, all breathtaking.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693896961310285938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwC8wQal04nC0hula3g5aSva-Z1sp4kpiGeIWf1rkPVfJ7xrKsGaVQqPuG6na1XnFGprf6rrlISY_2Xba3hf16_fb7YkOyI5b_uPBpx0u_gy-cT4tB8o_oe0WoRXP2H-v-BLgaas7mwj0/s320/001.JPG" />Beaufort was a<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiko3sXr8yLVwi4N5cpLvpm_q87vCPVL7XuGzz67Y3-bzZFWNAEegewET_Ee-kpflidnJUgVilztimMTYKtv7aiNMJ_GABPMilneaZkrLg45Edz0KcodolcsNgnVVOKA_0sU2l90xhVdTA/s1600/118.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693899690628912114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiko3sXr8yLVwi4N5cpLvpm_q87vCPVL7XuGzz67Y3-bzZFWNAEegewET_Ee-kpflidnJUgVilztimMTYKtv7aiNMJ_GABPMilneaZkrLg45Edz0KcodolcsNgnVVOKA_0sU2l90xhVdTA/s320/118.JPG" /></a>nother charming stop along the way, but it was Savannah that sang to me. All the ancient trees with Spanish moss was like something straight out of "Gone With the Wind".</div><br /><br /><br /><div>It was another wonderful bike trip.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div>Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-85408857827014167702011-08-22T23:04:00.004-04:002011-08-22T23:33:23.196-04:00Hike Much?<div>
<br /><div>
<br /><div>We are on day 4 of our trip and we are in the White Moutains of New Hampshire, and I pretty much want to sleep. </div>
<br /><div>Tom crushed me in 3 rounds of ping-pong. Are any of you good at table tennis? That's kinda a pussy game ... don't you think?</div>
<br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643884115604704642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMRWKYGj59GNILkzZmEZlgA3zanDAxYqTERlOuH9LsvrLnrSEs9Sc3QUeTRfiL5PESuUsbUydScN-v8y_fkA5iAF4Y-0dcTRILHqK1Y6P9QiDGEfCtGq2lgTULYurJYIM2kX0HVtbP2ik/s400/051.JPG" /> I can kick major butt in Foosball, but ping pong not so much. Anyway we hiked our butts off.</div>
<br /><div>May I just tell you I don't mind a hike, but when I have to lead and I am thrashing through spider condos, it is totally yucky. I could never date spider man, the webs are so icky, and you know there is a poisonous brown spider out there somewhere. Other than that, I'm good.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643884119267961250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigPIcvzvxUX3ij5Efome1Nxc86d6CYT2XNF_5SSguqO4rH8HN4qGaQbJaVc1W_f2gQncw9NdDnvlnqHLuhdBeYi4MIEkYn0wwAXamXzvgeCLp1cOyqZl-JvM-nv85Y-afHr31qlZAiV5g/s400/056.JPG" />.</div></div></div>
<br />Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-55620544738818226322011-08-22T22:30:00.003-04:002011-08-22T22:43:21.730-04:00BFFFFF
<br />Tom and I have truly become BFF's here in Maine. I have meet his Mother and oldest brother, and all this as friends. Have you ever been an ex-lover to your best friend? It's a little touchy, but if you work it right, its magic. A lot of my friends think I'm nuts dealing with all the nonsense that I have, but you know what, I'm okay with it. He makes me laugh, and when my plate is full I will push it away.
<br />
<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643875270992482370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHTNh91MkkmIRXpdAj-gF2InM85z63JUdwH99uqSlAQcKPneR4ESHC8kfQruEsPmJIm7kYyy4eOgj_AIfsI120iqE6QFLr_-YsaJVEDQ5OquD-gnGs46lMeBz6qa1Jy2CSGt782dQCoW4/s400/060.JPG" />
<br />Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-83159105272926414732011-08-22T21:59:00.002-04:002011-08-22T22:29:33.281-04:00ACADIA
<br />
<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3liRVnsT51P48J7-g9CC2UEbQ2hAPBSCC3YWMJfMbLDQldshmA_ATXLTU4Z1OQo8gzhEVRwsSQgWLkal3IOEJPcA-KRJ9KKHTCW-g3z0tDOVVLDGA9aW2SBOZpZ2i6k2INnzd3SXQcMY/s1600/027.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643870935359487602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3liRVnsT51P48J7-g9CC2UEbQ2hAPBSCC3YWMJfMbLDQldshmA_ATXLTU4Z1OQo8gzhEVRwsSQgWLkal3IOEJPcA-KRJ9KKHTCW-g3z0tDOVVLDGA9aW2SBOZpZ2i6k2INnzd3SXQcMY/s320/027.JPG" /></a>
<br />
<br /><div>Okay! I have been to all 50 states and Alaska, bar none, is my favorite. I want my ashes thrown over <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Mulnomah</span> Fall, Oregon. Kris and Kathy are in charge of that, and I mean from the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">tippy</span>-top, Kris can do it.</div>
<br /><div>Maine is yummy in the summer. The air is breathable, the sky is blue, and the water is cold and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">swimmable</span>. It makes you feel alive, but I'm there in July. I do love being alive in July. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643871297608444770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjad2hUAq-6KNfHwW4d3YXkF8QQljnfc2fQ6i5Ln_1n_HTfsUyHpLNcZ_xT6WrCyScLuNK1xzDHOo9lYLCW_ngVN9uyJBtiXGJ0BdFsqv2IYuc9a6Ru_5oLiu6zwsOshR25eXcOHxQiKug/s400/037.JPG" /></div></div>
<br />Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-377723180463393612011-08-22T21:43:00.003-04:002011-08-22T22:07:52.698-04:00Maine Man<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXeFAVVl0Q-zkbRoLxfaBIRwCo7ezoEf18nav3-AwnWJ2rw4W4-s-tX1msFACcOxZ9RNezNbFG-FN4dyPuzgnFwD0POjjr7zCuA3G_Efn3wDb0xsEGAucqixVBzKBSXRnx-5d6vJRzZ5I/s1600/012.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643864222867100210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXeFAVVl0Q-zkbRoLxfaBIRwCo7ezoEf18nav3-AwnWJ2rw4W4-s-tX1msFACcOxZ9RNezNbFG-FN4dyPuzgnFwD0POjjr7zCuA3G_Efn3wDb0xsEGAucqixVBzKBSXRnx-5d6vJRzZ5I/s400/012.JPG" /></a>
<br />
<br />
<br /><div>Tom and I had planned our trip to Maine long before the CC nonsense started. I told him if he had any intentions toward Sally, traveling to Maine with me would not be in his best interest. I told him this as a friend, that is what we are now, friends.<em> </em></div>
<br />
<br /><div><em></em></div>
<br />Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-76410959324787618392011-08-22T21:27:00.001-04:002011-08-22T21:42:55.533-04:00.....You Pull Me Back InI can't remember when the last time I told you about where I was in my life. We all know when things are going well we can not wait to tell one and all about it. Tom is still a part of it, whether it be large or small. When last heard from I was CC'd accidentally by his girlfriend. OMG!! How in the corn bread hell did she get my email? Tom hasn't a clue? anyway... It was not pretty, but I of course rose above all the ugliness. Holy Moly... there was some ugliness. I should copy and paste so you know what I have known for some time, but Hell.. I know he'll love me sooner or later.. NOT.
<br />Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-11754254259180459392011-07-04T16:53:00.005-04:002011-07-04T21:28:15.432-04:00Don't Be Afraid.Why is "LOVE" so scary to some. I never worry about telling my friends that I love them. I don't think I've ever finished a phone conversation with Kris without saying "I love you". Life is short, love means different things. I love the sunshine, I love the color yellow, I love the smell of microwave popcorn. The Webster noun description is... strong affection for another out of kinship or personal ties. Holy <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Moly</span>!! That would include all of Craven County, NC for me. Anybody who reads this post must list at least five loves.<br />My 5, in no particular order are (not counting Harper and Scout)....<br />1. Cuddling<br />2. Mac&Cheese<br />3. A good bike ride<br />4. Roller Coasters<br />5. Massage<br /><br />I love all of you who read this.Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-19357005088295243962011-06-28T15:31:00.005-04:002011-07-04T16:32:20.708-04:00Friends<div>There is no way one can get through life without making acquaintances.</div><br /><div>I have so many that if combined it would easily rival the NY white pages. But then there are the special friends, real friends, that come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Aside from my 2 sisters my "REAL" friends are so rare I could count them on one hand. These are the friends that come into your life and leave you a better person. One such friend just came into town for a very short visit. Donna had just spent a week with her sisters in Nashville. In order for her to get back to Florida she had a 2 hour layover in Baltimore. YIPPEEE!!!<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625591320358660210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT9PsS0h6EocRkbjpEqqaK1k3rD9f-wOP8U93v5cDsVFNwqUXi6fb_hEPz6UnJxsqF19x5doiM4y1qF_zevqW9ISiPUf0j4jPLCkafmf1smOS-656VwdyxBNyyT-gyi3jNTfP7nJYCTAY/s400/Donna%252C+Kae+%2526+I.JPG" /></div><br /><div>I have another such friend from high school, her name is Valerie. She is someone who I can be away from for 102 years, meet at a reunion, and never skip a beat. We knew each other long before e-mail, Skye,and anything else technology might provide. There have been marriages, divorce,children, death. We are friends, we listen, we DO NOT JUDGE. That's what makes us friends, and not God. I have often given pieces of my heart to people, only my friends have pieces of my soul. Kris, Kathy, Valerie and Donna have all my love.</div><br /><div></div>Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-72560284126940885342011-05-31T18:20:00.004-04:002011-05-31T18:39:33.035-04:00Couch Surfing.comAbout 2 years ago I was doing a bike trip in Vermont. It started in Burlington on a Sunday, and I wanted to go up a day early so I could look around Burlington a little more than the bike tour allotted. That weekend just happened to be homecoming weekend, parents weekend and every other weekend that Burlington had to offer. The bottom line was there were no rooms to be had unless you were booking for the entire weekend, which brings me to "Couch Surfing.com".<br />I had heard about couch surfing on a radio station that I listen to, so I thought "what the heck".<br /><br /><div>After filling out all the necessary blanks I decided to just go up the day the tour starts, and forgot all about it. </div><br /><div>6 months later I got an email from a gentleman in Wisconsin who had a son at the Naval Academy, and was coming in for a weekend to see him, did I mind if he crashed on my couch. I just happened to be leaving the 2nd day he was here, so I said sure. Well this year his son is graduating, so he asked if he could stay again, this time with 5 other people. I'm just a girl who can't say no. David and Disa arrived last Sunday, his sister and her husband came in on Thursday, and his other son came in on Friday. Did I mention my air conditioner's condenser went out?<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613012577200106322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkj4gzUnJguL2wgDu_C_YFzwT58-53QOrci7Iid52AuRGpeRYbt7N0mtdFGgEcKHca0OKt0HIgCDhSaoKMuWNz9paGC9mO93DIKPwWYocnMnNdhToQeDWAXjH26FWQ17YS7DvGxvBOTQU/s400/018.JPG" /></div>Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-69936710918787756062011-05-31T17:46:00.006-04:002011-05-31T18:19:21.821-04:00Taking It As It Comes.<div><br /><div>I know everyone has probably been on pins and needles about Tom and my outcome. It's been all over the place. He wrote an email saying he didn't think he wanted the "Hot and Heavy" (his words) kind of relationship that I did. I wrote him back and said, "What a relief. Once again we are on the same page". Then he asked if I wanted to go bike riding. The bottom line is we get along famously when we're together, so why not just keep having fun together. Last weekend we repeated our Eastern Shore ride.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613007114730113314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEVxP0WLL8P3JOKtJc4-vq9_KmygtaaKXSRuNkG4KUTNtczXKF3e7oZHWK1uwouvjTmMgsIJ-JMODc8TOLf0XTkEgFcza1yPWQw9yfccYa6fQnYIPQlbtxG3MBd_U03OpnCnyZesi7GvE/s400/021.JPG" /> Memorial Day we rode on the C&O Canal through Harper's Ferry. The guy that we got to take this picture, handed the camera back and said, "some one's in love". I said, "Yeah, we just don't know who with". After a beautiful day together we headed back to Tom's. After riding in 98 degree weather, I hopped in the shower, when I got out Tom showed me his portrait wall in his bedroom. He has a photo of his 2 children, his brand new grand daughter, his family which include his mom, 2 brothers and 2 sisters, and 2, not 1 but 2, of he and I. They are photos that I have put on the blog, but to be on his bedroom wall, Holy Moly. I guess I should have been friends with him all along. Oh! did I mention he has invited me to Maine in July. Go Figure!! I am just taking it as it comes, and enjoying every minute of it.</div></div>Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-88441167748667889832011-05-11T08:48:00.002-04:002011-05-11T09:12:36.535-04:00One For The RoadThe rest of Sunday evening was spent watching a movie, 127 Hours, with the proverbial elephant in the room. Tom tried to consol me, but it wasn't working. I told him that if he still had feelings for Sally, I didn't want to feel like if he stayed with me he would have always wondered, would of, could of, should of, I am better than that. I also told him that they split for a reason, it may be nice for a week, a month, maybe even longer, but the problems they had before would resurface unless somthing was done to resolve them.<br />The next morning I had a doctor appointment, and then we were going to play tennis. I for one thought hitting a tennis ball with all my might would do wonders. Early Monday morning, 5:00am, Tom's cell phone beeped to alert him and me that a text had just arrived. Guess who? I was getting up to walk the dogs anyway. When I got back Tom told me the gist of the texting. Sally, "Want to meet for coffee"? Tom, "I'm not at home". Sally, "WTF", nice, huh? While I get ready for my appoinment, the texting contiued and I was only getting tidbits from Tom. Uuuuggghhhh.<br />Tom takes me to my appoinment and is alone with the "text-mess" for the next hour. Well by the time my appoinment is over, instead of breakfast and tennis, Tom doesn't think he'll be very good company, drops me off at home and goes back to Gaithersburg, and I'm sure to Sally's. I am crushed, and call my sister right away.Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-76698111816404437132011-05-01T17:34:00.002-04:002011-05-01T17:56:33.040-04:00Trouble in Paradise.Throughout Tom and my relationship, Tom has been nothing but honest with me. It is one of my only stipulations, along with having nice teeth. From our very first date Tom talked about a previous relationship that had ended badly. It was with someone he thought he would spend the rest of his life with. I didn't ask alot of questions, because I wanted our time together to be about us, but if anything came up I was certainly there to listen. <br />Tom's daughter Lauren has recently had a baby, and when we were headed to Old Rag Mountain Lauren called and said that Sally (Tom's ex) wanted to come see the baby and give her a gift. Tom told Lauren that it was fine, but not to make the visit about him. I was in the car for the entire conversation, and knew then and there Sally wanted back in. People don't just don't do things like that unless they want to find a small opening, and from what I had heard about Sally, she was not doing it for kindness sake. There is nothing to worry about according to Tom.<br />Another few weeks go by and Tom tells me Sally wants to see him. She has some things of his, he has some thing of hers, including a spare car key and she needs closure. Well I am all for this. I think closure is going to be good for everyone involved, but I also know how wonderful Tom is and find it hard to believe Sally really wants closure. I sure hope Tom is right. This all happened on Saturday. Tom is scheduled to come over for dinner on Sunday, and tennis on Monday. I am a nervous wreck. Tom doesn't say anything all through dinner, and of course I am so upset inside, I can't eat. We sit down on the couch after an amazing dinner, and Tom tells me Sally wants him back. Surprise, surprise.Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-26402085402438235362011-05-01T16:51:00.006-04:002011-05-01T17:34:00.644-04:00It Just Keeps Getting Better.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM6AQU7llS8CPbPSy4gizoHlQs_UVbrShkUYhHAOzrKcRwQpnTCKKG4SAEXeb4-TWaJreRGo7mY8xNL6WpdTO7IBrizbhpyHYkyCrU7M_-YOm5YJi9mPynJFX4Y9DHUOhpJCo1Bie4IMo/s1600/001.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601861255148990866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM6AQU7llS8CPbPSy4gizoHlQs_UVbrShkUYhHAOzrKcRwQpnTCKKG4SAEXeb4-TWaJreRGo7mY8xNL6WpdTO7IBrizbhpyHYkyCrU7M_-YOm5YJi9mPynJFX4Y9DHUOhpJCo1Bie4IMo/s400/001.JPG" /></a>This week Tom and I are headed to the Eastern Shore to bike from <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Easton</span> to Oxford. The round trip was only 20 miles and flat, so it was very easy. What a great day...we stopped at a grocery store, picked up lunch, and then found parking by a small beach in Oxford. Tom took out a blanket and we spread all our culinary delights out, and enjoyed the day and the company. I am telling you I am over the moon about this guy. I dated Terry, who was from <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Easton</span>, for a year and never made it to Oxford. Anyway... At our half way point on the bike we stopped at a Golf Clubhouse, had some refreshment<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKHfF5i0p0Rm9sx-EDBEUYaqFfoNunFKmvr8zhEoWMbRMNleLnf9-IPllTR98s4JoWg5_GYGtq-zyyNyJmOfhXmQbZ_B5OaEHLBj8H_dVH83KIT3yJvUwiIDEqxrOoyDsAtDv1kcpaG7Y/s1600/002.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601860848040146498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKHfF5i0p0Rm9sx-EDBEUYaqFfoNunFKmvr8zhEoWMbRMNleLnf9-IPllTR98s4JoWg5_GYGtq-zyyNyJmOfhXmQbZ_B5OaEHLBj8H_dVH83KIT3yJvUwiIDEqxrOoyDsAtDv1kcpaG7Y/s400/002.JPG" /></a>s then started back. We laugh and talk like we are long lost <br /><div><br /><div><br /><div>friends. We really do get along well. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The same week Tom asks me to go hiking with a group he hikes with. That's right 2 dates in one week, he even invites both Scout and Harper. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">OMG</span>!! A man who likes my kids, can it get any better? After checking the route I decide just to take Scout. It's a 7 mile hike and I'm afraid at 9 years old, Harper would just stop having fun after a mile or 2. We had another wonderful day, this time with others included. I think it's easy to get along when it's just 2 of you, the real test comes when you see how well they play with others.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div></div></div>Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1547923539193351520.post-84104616748653415202011-04-07T17:23:00.009-04:002011-04-07T19:03:00.313-04:00My Monday Man in March.<span></span>Tom and my first date was lunch at a great little restaurant on West Street called Luna Blue. He came into Annapolis from <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gaithersburg</span>, about an hour away. That is a little farther than my 25 mile radius request, but what the heck, it's only lunch. We sat and talked very easily for 2 hours. At the start of lunch Tom told me he was just getting over a cold, and I remarked, "good that takes the pressure off a first kiss, now we can enjoy lunch", and that's exactly what we did. <br /><div><br /><div><br /><div>It is a little scary how much we have in common. We both drive Elements, our phone numbers end in the same four numbers, we both have a love of the outdoors, the list goes on and on.</div><br /><div>Our next date was a 20 mile bike ride the following Monday. Afterwards we cleaned up, yes, separately, then headed to lunch. Another great day.</div><br /><div>The following Monday, are you beginning to see a pattern here, I nicknamed Tom my "Monday Man", we meet in the middle at Columbia Mall, had breakfast at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Panera's</span> and talked for 5 hours. I think it is important to be able to communicate with someone, and the day at the Mall pretty much proved we had no problem there. Another week... This Monday we head to Old Rag Mountain in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Shenandoah</span> National Park. I met Tom at his house at 7:00am, and we have a 2.5 hour drive to our destination. Now I know nothing about Old Rag, but what I have read. The first 1.5 miles is pretty much straight up. I explain to Tom that this is my first hike since waking from hibernation, he just laughs at me. On this hike there is a rock scrambled that is really fun, but it's challenging. I ask about 2 hours into the hike straight up, "when does the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">scramble</span> start"? Tom in his very funny way says, "As soon as you feel like you can't put one foot in front of the other, that's when the scramble starts". <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">hahaha</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBwuPBl6yARuLRsyojjDwj_LfORhq6gfI9fR7CxdQpAb28IsXOC_o2o0Lud8RmT891kvmQZDBf4FgEhT5qqUiZTe44cCyvW0uclRb_FtAZ-3RFjptQy1wfbOL2VcvCfF_POYpDbn53oOw/s1600/022.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592962533138163042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBwuPBl6yARuLRsyojjDwj_LfORhq6gfI9fR7CxdQpAb28IsXOC_o2o0Lud8RmT891kvmQZDBf4FgEhT5qqUiZTe44cCyvW0uclRb_FtAZ-3RFjptQy1wfbOL2VcvCfF_POYpDbn53oOw/s320/022.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9qbl6NlVZPFU5gxvB-unXrd-UcpoLjH5gLmEmqRjyKWa32wynEOcflXrU9jWffSVfjrwNIhHI6nWUNzd7hyEIh1aSshD_Kfw-f1Q5emPeBC5FhvOC88yBGhsdig_9FxMTU2XSAGLR-Q/s1600/021.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592962529600468338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9qbl6NlVZPFU5gxvB-unXrd-UcpoLjH5gLmEmqRjyKWa32wynEOcflXrU9jWffSVfjrwNIhHI6nWUNzd7hyEIh1aSshD_Kfw-f1Q5emPeBC5FhvOC88yBGhsdig_9FxMTU2XSAGLR-Q/s320/021.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvQT8Gb_hESu33xgi_6nbM5oMGATYNcteRtBbsKsfsm2kpOKF1uqV_RvRnZCn3qtygCHPufaEXAbheBwEULSlTVdlJYjMQd4AUtMep7IgsVWSYn8Ivgm7tqNMyBx9awg2UxJQ4n09eUpw/s1600/024.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592962543494398034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvQT8Gb_hESu33xgi_6nbM5oMGATYNcteRtBbsKsfsm2kpOKF1uqV_RvRnZCn3qtygCHPufaEXAbheBwEULSlTVdlJYjMQd4AUtMep7IgsVWSYn8Ivgm7tqNMyBx9awg2UxJQ4n09eUpw/s320/024.JPG" /></a>Tom has a great <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">sense</span> of humor, although nothing is funny on hour 3 uphill. When we hit the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">scramble</span> it was a nice break from the hiking straight uphill. I want you to note the snow in this photo, well we wanted to beat the crowds. No problem there,we only ran into 3 others on the mountain. A young nurse actually hiked with us for most of the trail. It was a long day, but one of the best I've had in a long time. We stopped for milkshakes on the way home. Before leaving that morning Tom put a roast and some veggies in a crock pot, and we were greeted with the rich aroma of the finished product.</div><br /><div>After the first bite I think I asked Tom to marry me. Who's funny now? </div></div></div>Terryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05760589157997108702noreply@blogger.com3