Tag Archives: motorcycles

The first step to saying goodbye?

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As you know, my husband miraculously parted with one of his motorcycles earlier this year. We really don’t ride much anymore and while it was the right thing to do… I know it was hard for him. Admitting you’re getting older is never easy and I daresay a piece of his youth drove off with that Kawasaki.

Of course he still has the Harley. Which is why I was extremely surprised when I saw him outside last week giving her a bath in anticipation of someone coming over to look at it.

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He bought the low rider back in 2009 from a friend whose brother had died. Not riding himself and knowing how much love and money his brother put into it, the friend was glad to see it go to a good home.

And believe me, serious money was invested in a complete remodel shortly before the owner passed.

$27,000 worth of serious.

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My husband paid a fraction of that and though we’ve owned it for quite a while, I have to admit we don’t ride it very often.

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See that tiny rear seat?

It doesn’t match my (not so tiny) rear seat and made long trips something to be avoided.

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We took it for short hops, and won a few bike show trophies… but for the most part she’s lived under cover in the garage.

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Which if you know anything about motorcycles and old Harleys in particular… is not a good thing.

Yes, someone is interested in buying her but unfortunately she’s not running right now. Won’t even start as a matter of fact… and there’s no telling how much money we’ll have to sink in her to make that happen.

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Second thoughts on saying goodbye?

Oh yeah.

He’s probably having third and fourth as well.

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Staking his claim.

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You never know what part of the house cats will gravitate toward. We’ve had desk felines..

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Bed felines….

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Chair felines….

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Bubba on chair (2)

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Even motorcycle felines.

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And now it looks like our newest addition has chosen my mother’s old bookcase.

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Yes, Lord Dudley Mountcatten has laid claim to this spot in our bedroom window.

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From it he can recline in the warmth of the sun….

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And hover over the birds who seek shelter in the bushes directly underneath.

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I think I’m going to have to remove that planter. It seems to be migrating closer to the edge everyday.

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So I got excited.

 

 

No, not that kind of excited.

Although now that I think about Chris… well, never mind.

I got excited because at 11:00am last Saturday the husband told me he was going to clean out the barn and set up a small yard sale.

My husband was going to get rid of his crap?

 

 

I was happy!

 

 

I was thrilled!

 

 

Hell, I admit it.

I was positively orgasmic.

 

 

I looked out the window and saw him sell something to a biker.

Yay!

 

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All the useless Harley knick knacks and paraphernalia…. gone!

All those extra Kawasaki parts and accessories…. gone!

And then I looked out the window again.

 

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And saw my late mother’s plant stand that I use on the porch…. gone.

My glass hummingbird feeders…. gone.

I was no longer excited.

 

 

And when I went outside to check exactly what it was he was selling?

 

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Yeah.

It was 100% mine.

Bags of clothes slated for Salvation Army donation, kitchen ware I was going to give his niece who’s moving into her first apartment, books that I trade with a friend.

He even had my hydrangea fertilizer on the table.

 

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But the worst part? The part that really had my jaw clenched….

He set this all up, and left.

Went to visit his brother and expected me to sit there and sell all the items I had no intention of selling in the first place.

 

 

The man has a death wish.

There’s really no other explanation that makes sense.