My mother in 1961, caught unawares by me as she worked on a tax filing. She's a bit dressed up because she just returned from a lunch hour rush at the steakhouse she and my dad owned, where she acted as hostess. My dad was in the bedroom, recovering from a severe heart attack (he did, and outlived three salt-free cardiologists). Mom said she didn't have time to even draw a breath in those years. That's our 1953 b&w Philco in the corner, and yes, the lampshade is scary. We thought it was beautiful then.
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