My sibs and I found found the prints my father tucked away at the back of his clothes-closet, when we cleaned out their house for sale. Good job they had their own darkroom.

Mama was quite fetching, artistically posed with her long hair, a strategically placed book and a glass of wine; papa hid the family jewels behind a plaster mask and looked distinctly uncomfortable with the whole procedure. Wonder whose idea that photo session was?

I think in the end my brother gave the photos a dignified burial, which made me rather sad. I didn't think they were anything to be ashamed of; in fact, I was quite proud of my parents for taking them. (They were married in 1937, by the way, and the photos would have been taken not too many years later.)

C