Here's my mother's drapes and curtains again, not to mention my mother, along with me and my father. I didn't get decked out like that for an ordinary Sunday, so this has to be some special occasion. Mother's all dolled up, but the fancy apron and the condensation on the window point to a major cooking operation going on in the kitchen. All the relatives are probably coming over. Her African violets are cooperating by not only being alive, but blooming. Appropriately enough, there's a Saturday Evening Post in the magazine rack, and, good California family that we are, a Sunset. The only mystery is the yardstick on the floor under the chair. An Ansco Color slide by my brother. Phantom images from the desk lamp must mean he had a couple misfires before the flash went off.
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