My Ramblin’ Rose

There she was. A little tired looking, bit worn and rusty, yet still she was lovely. She was my dream, my fantasy.  I swear my eyes must have lit up when I came upon her. Giddy, my first thoughts were “oh please, would you be mine?”.

I’d come over for, well you know I don’t even recall now, but there I was at Crossroads. Decided to take a little stroll, as I waited for him to return from the store. His place is always a cacophony of collectibles and old wood waiting to be reborn, so I decided to poke around, see what was new.

Its like once you send out that ‘picker‘ vibe, things just come to you, so you just never know what gem he has acquired.

old-bike

Another oldy – 1940’s Watson – Watson was a local bike shop. These were manufactured for them. Haven’t found a lot of info on them, but must have operated in London during the war years, and after.

Another of his passions is bicycles; especially vintage bikes.

He has inspired me, and I had thought of getting a bicycle. But the right one just hadn’t come along.

Until I saw her there, and my heart missed a beat.

She had been abandoned out in the elements for almost 5 years; road weary tires, rusty chain, and her chrome finish tatty. She was a  bit of a mess.

Yet, still, that late 1960’s glamour shone through. With her funky uppity handlebars, chrome fenders, and her grayed jade finish, she is a second-hand Rose. Or third-hand, as the case may be.

spit and polishSo Crossroads worked his magic on her, and with a bit of spit and polish, she is on the road again.

Yesterday went out for a nice long cruise, winding our way through the march of the penguin crowds. Weaving in and out, changing gears, wind in my hair, sunshine on my face, along with a smile. Pure bliss was I.

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