Say hello to Madeline, my new bike! When I was just a little pigtailed girl, my paternal grandmother wanted me to have a bike at her house to ride around the neighborhood. She had one in her shed that belonged to one of my aunts or uncles, was over 20 years old, rusted, and beat up. She slapped a coat of fire engine red spray paint on it, and decided we should name it Rusty Jones. Ever since, I've named every form of transportation I've owned. My first 10 speed bike was Wildfire (what can I say, it was the late 70's - I wanted a horse, but alas, all my parents could afford was a schwinn). My first car was Mooshbomb. My first VW was Moosh. My Cabrio was a little more fancy than the Golf, so she was named Matisse. Now that I'm old and own my first four door vehicle, her name is Matilde (but don't let the name fool ya - she's the turbo version, so she can still hit 100 in a flash).
Madeline is my first grown up bicycle. We spent the afternoon at Biker's Edge and both the Baron and I got Treks. I am over the moon excited, riding around the neighborhood makes me feel like I'm back in pigtails, pretending my bike is a horse, and I'm a fairy princess riding off in to the sunset on Wildfire.
Borrowing a phrase from the Captain's Wife - I Puffy Heart my new bike!
