November 1960. While I restrain Missie the Zombie Dog, my nephew Jimmy is either still stunned by or anticipates the full-face smooch she gave him within moments of this shot (see first comment below). Interesting background details here in my mother's kitchen: upper right on the white table, a bowl of sliced figs fresh from my father's garden, along with an actual box of Pablum (presumably for Jimmy); on the table shelf, some of her recipe cards in a clothespin holder thingie behind a casserole dish; on the back wall, an ironing board cabinet, and under it, I guess, a metal compartment for the old kind of iron you heated on the stove; for some reason, a bamboo cane hangs from the cabinet handle; on the left, a typical accretion of kitchen items clogs the shelf, including an aluminum cake saver, hand-crocheted hot plate mats, wire glassware holder complete with table glassware, and in the corner, recipe boxes and cookbooks (one a Betty Crocker) are piled atop the breadbox, one of Mother's wedding presents from 1932 and which is now in my possession. I'm 14 here, Jimmy 8 months. My sister took the photo.
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