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@Squoocher
The problem, nuknow, with the modern bicycle is that it is many things to many different people. I remember once when your step-father, Jacques, and I were courting, you came running into the dining room, your face flushed from playing, and as you jumped into my lap you yelled 'Mummy, mummy, mud guards are vulgar; they're like big tongues!'. Good gracious, we all fell about laughing. Like tongues!! How very true, though. I recall that Jaques swept you up in his big arms and gave you a big bear hug. 'Like tonguey tonguey tongues,' he roared, blowing a big wet 'raspberry' on your big chubby cheeks, making you squeal so loud that Hatty in the next room (as always) put down her violin!!! 'Kill the mouse, kill the mouse!!' I remember her trilling from the conservatory. Those were such wonderful days Nuknow, I wish you'd get in touch. I know you think me and Jacques 'fucked you up' but we were only doing what we thought best. You're so very moody these days, but your such a senstitive soul underneath.