Goodbye, Norman Bates.

We bike almost every day.

Now I'm not talking about bike helmet, spandex wearing exercise, but more of a leisurely

looking at houses enjoying the passing scenery type of ride.

Occasionally we even make the 10 mile trek on a trail to and from a nearby lake.

Meet Rusty.

Obviously I don't ride this old relic since I'm a tad too big

to fit on this child's bicycle.  This is how it looked when I first brought it home.

I hooked a basket of flowers on the handlebars and

plunked a clearance pot of impatiens on the carrier rack in back.

Even with the addition of flowers, it just looked gloomy to me.

Google Images

In its rusty brown state, it looked as though it should be leaning against

the Bates Motel.  Now, I know many of you would love this rusty look,

but I'm living on the Iron Range where I view mountains of rust

every day in the form of iron ore dumps.  Enough already!

What this bike needed was a new coat of paint to freshen it up.

What color should I choose?  Pink?  White?

The answer came in the mail the other day.

I won this magazine from Susan in a giveaway on her blog, Evelyn and Rose. 

Thank you Susan!

Susan wrote a feature article showcasing her beautiful photography.

The book is filled with gorgeous images, one of them a painted

bicycle wrapped with tulle ribbons.  My inspiration!

I mixed Light Jade Green and Laguna Blue acrylic paints with Gesso

and applied the mixture with a scruffy old brush.  The color looks a bit intense

but it won't take long for the paint to fade and the rust to reappear.

Perfect!

The seat has lost its cush.

The tires have lost their bounce.

The chain is rusted in place.

The reflectors are long gone.

But the kickstand still works!!

I didn't even notice the front fender was missing until I started painting!

Here it is under the shelter of our kitchen window.  You can see my ever-present cup of coffee

on the bench near the back door.  And the wreath was in the shape of a heart until the local

birdies decided to borrow twigs for their nests.  The neighborhood squirrels

entertain us with their high wire act on the electrical wires overhead.

Although there is a rare mishap.  Yikes!

I won't be riding my newly painted bike in the Jubilee Parade on Saturday as Tracy suggested,

but at least it no longer looks like Norman Bates' childhood bike.

Now it needs a new name!

Thanks for stopping by,

Vickie

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