Two and three wheeled bicycles were my main mode of transportation, escape, and income during my first two decades.
Here’s a story about a lovely bike I have known…
The Green Tricycle (1971)
When I was going into Grade 1, we lived with my maternal grandparents, in their house in Victoria.
My birthday was coming up, and I had discovered this large cardboard box in the living-room. I asked my grandmother what was in it, and if it was for me. She looked at the box, reached inside and pulled out a long curved piece of green tubing that had little wheels on the end. She looked at it and then looked at me. Even then, I had a pretty good idea that it was part of a tricycle. Aha! It was obvious!
“Is that for me?” I asked her excitedly.
“No,” she said, “it’s for me.” She then proceeded to push it back and forth on the carpet like a toy vacuum cleaner. “See? It’s for me.” Totally straight-faced.
“Nooo!!” I cried out. I was in on the joke, but still, it seemed so unfair! (Of course it’s hysterically funny to me now, when I look back on it.)
Of course it was a lovely forest green tricycle they’d bought just for me! I was so happy when it was finally given to me it, and I booted all around Poppy’s block on that little thing.