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This little old bicycle is such a treasure we wish it was big enough for us to ride on. I think perhaps the old picnic basket could be strapped to the back of a bigger one and the whole family could go off on a Sunday afternoon outing, each on their own matching bicycle. A lake or river is mandatory, as is green grass and dappled sunlight. The mother should be wearing a skirt, and the picnic basket is blue or red and white checked. I am sure that someone learnt to ride on this little bike. Perhaps it had training wheels attached to it at some stage. It didn’t have a bell, but the owner would have wanted one that loudly and satisfyingly ‘dddrrrrrringg’-ed when they rang it, flying down hills and round corners. Maybe that was on their next bike :). This next little treasure I don’t think had any practical use and is purely for the owner’s decorating (read: amassing clutter) pleasure. There’s something very sweet about it anyway. Whimsical, even.
This one obviously had a history. The plates are worn, but not too worn, every piece is there, the flasks have provided for many cups of tea or coffee. There is even a little compact 2-in-1 salt & pepper set. I wonder if it saw the beach or the mountains? Whether it travelled far, went fishing or on summer holidays? Or was this a weekend-picnicker? A family, on a picnic blanket or a table. With a dog, or maybe not. Packed up in the back of a station wagon, or was it a caravan? Salads or sandwiches. Cakes or biscuits. Sausages on a barbecue, cold meat in an esky. Orange cordial, fruitcake, pie. Mosquitoes & flies. Can't you just see the memories? I can just smell picnic.