Things you just can't get rid of

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stephec

Squire
Location
Bolton
My kids had one of those aluminium micro scooters. I really, really can't see the point in them. Cubester eschewed it for a skateboard, and Cubette didn't spend much time riding it, but Dan from next door loved it. We have a steeply sloping concrete drive, and the sound of Dan riding it down for longer than a few nominal minutes sent me round the twist. Now, nothing against Dan really, but he is the same age as my two, and when they were in primary school Dan used to come round and play a lot. He spent a lot of time with Cubette, rather than Cubester, as she had a nice Barbie Palace and he enjoyed playing Princess games with her. He also used to play in the same Rugby team as Cubester, but gave up when they played full contact, spending more time in tears than on the pitch. He used to go to the same high school, but claimed he was bullied, but according to Cubette the kids on the bus just shouted at him to stop singing High School Musical numbers a the top of his voice. Just sayin'

Anyway, the scooter used to live in the garage, and being an awkward shape never stayed in the same place twice. It used to appear and fall on me every time I wanted to reach something down from a shelf, or move one of the bikes to find it was lodged behind it, with the stupid foam handles tangled in the brake hoses. I learned to hate it beyond measure, irrationally associating it with Dan, who far from being a victim, was actually a thoroughly nasty piece of work, making up lies about all the nasty boys at school. Cubester tried hard to teach him to be a bit more streetwise, but he ended up telling a provable pack of lies about him too.

I eventually hid the scooter in the roof beams in the garage, but one day it fell on me when I was getting some camping kit down, so I threw it back up, whereupon it bounced off one of the surfboards and hit me on the head. Attracted by the sweary noises from the garage the kids came out in time to see me rendering the ******* thing unrideable with a sledgehammer.

I was due to visit the tip, so it went in with half a dozen old paint tins, some rubble sacks full of tiles and a bag of weeds from the front garden. When I got back from the tip,I glanced in through the back window of the car to see some familiar foam grips mocking me from the boot floor. I'd brought the f*cking thing home with me.
Did you hear an eerie voice calling out something along the lines of, "hi my name's Chucky, wanna play?"
 
I'm a hoarder so I find it difficult to get of anything with emotional attachment or memories.
Yeah, it's not what they are, it's where they've been and what you've done with them. I imparted these wise words to son2 when he broke my camping cereal bowl after borrowing it for his DofE. It had been touring with me and on mountaineering trips with me since before he was born. To his credit, he got my unreasonable sadness at it's demise but then again it's just a bowl. It's already been replaced by a trendier folding one whose bottom doubles as a chopping board. it's memory lives on though.

I've got one of those farking scooters Cubist mentioned too. it's currently tangled with some spare wheels and tyres and is forever in the way when I take a bike down.
 

GrumpyGregry

Here for rides.
The handlebars from my old Charge Plug from "the Buckingshire incident". They hang on the wall in the bike shed to remind me that helmets are over-rated.

The painting of "Sunflowers" a la Van Gogh that #1 son did in Primary School hangs in the living room whilst in the dining room hangs his later work "Cakes".

A photo of my daughter as a child dancing by a lake in the Austrian Alps that TLH took. Betty was twirling a pink towel about herself. I remember coming down the downhill course on the other side of the valley and seeing far, far below me in the distance this tiny figure waving what looked like a pink flag.

Every anniversary card TLH ever gave me.
 

Cyclopathic

Veteran
Location
Leicester.
[QUOTE 3145835, member: 76"]I am having a right old clear-out at the moment, like my Nan did just before she died. Anyway, I have been brutal, some of my Army kit, loads of the kids old toys, even my skis as I won't be doing them justice anymore. All sorts of stuff, then I came to the Decathlon 7.0 kids racing bike. Now this is way too small for the kids, they have Triban 3s in varying sizes, but I just can't let it go. I know I should, and as they have grown out of other bikes they are sold straight away, no emotional messing at all. BUT this one......I just can't do it! They have both won their first race on it, MissUser76 has cycled 50 miles through Northern France on it, they both did their first triathlon on it, they cycled to school on it for 3 years.

I am being stupidly over-emotional about a bike aren't I? Do you have anything like this? The one thing that you just seem to bear to part with for some peculiar emotional reason?[/QUOTE]
Keep it for the grandkids.
 

CopperBrompton

Bicycle: a means of transport between cake-stops
Location
London
I tend toward minimalism, so generally have no problem getting rid of things that are no longer needed, but must confess that - despite not having ridden a motorcycle for more than a decade - I still have my motorcycle leathers. I will most likely never ride one again, but can't quite bring myself to get rid of them ...
 

Ganymede

Veteran
Location
Rural Kent
I tend toward minimalism, so generally have no problem getting rid of things that are no longer needed, but must confess that - despite not having ridden a motorcycle for more than a decade - I still have my motorcycle leathers. I will most likely never ride one again, but can't quite bring myself to get rid of them ...
I've still got my diving wetsuits. I suppose they might come in handy for something...
 

Shut Up Legs

Down Under Member
I've got various bike parts I'll probably never use again, and which would be useful to someone. I think I'll have to find a bicycle charity shop somewhere to which to donate them.
 
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