August 10: In May 2021, I wrote about “retiring from motorcycling” and selling my 2000 Honda VFR. That was an emotional experience for me because of the change in my life, and the fact that I had owned and ridden that bike for so long; it was like losing an old friend. Given the then on-going pandemic lockdown, it was clear that I would also not be riding in Europe any time soon, so my second bike, a 2014 VFR parked in Heidelberg, became – almost literally – a “stranded asset”.
I knew I had to get her sold in Europe, or brought home for sale here. In 2021 I became infatuated with Regatta Island and, although I knew I had to do something to deal with the bike, that problem was put aside in favour of more pressing issues – like rain pouring through the cottage roof. Having tried the fools errand of selling the bike in Europe, I resolved to get her home and, on June 3, she finally returned.
I will spare you the gory details of trying to sell her, and simply say that last week, a charming guy from Windsor arrived, looked the bike over, paid full asking price in cash, and took the bike home in his pickup truck. Unlike the emotional side of selling the 2000 VFR, this was a transaction, and I was pleasantly surprised and happy to finally see the bike sold and the cash in my bank account, ready for use at the cottage.
I have a tendency to become emotionally attached to objects, things and possessions. Many have a deeper meaning for me, and I often hang on to useless things that other people would throw away, simply because they represent something special to me. Given that the bike and I had shared many exciting adventures in Europe over 3 riding seasons, it was out of character for me to sell her without a lot of emotion, and treat her merely as an asset to be redeployed.
The cottage has imposed huge constraints on my financial situation. I am very aware of the costs involved, and the potential risks to me going forward. Yet the cottage resonates with me in a way that is difficult to describe. She’s an old girl struggling a bit with various maladies and I hope that I can help return her to her past, strong and healthy self. There is continuity with the past (110 years and counting) and an abiding hope that I will be around to enjoy her many years into the future.
That said, I am very aware that the financial implications of owning her may prove to be too much and that I may have to step back from my emotions and treat her as an asset that can be “redeployed”. I know that, should I have to make that decision, it will be incredibly difficult. Yet I now find myself thinking of her as an asset that may need to be considered as part of a plan to secure my future well-being, or redeploy to a different dream, rather than a sentimental project that gobbles time and money. Time is passing more quickly than I would like, but I hope that day is many, many years in the future.
May 2021 – 2023 A Year of Challenge and Patience (david-mckillop.com)