The Kitchen
The front porch and the bougainvillea were just outside this door. This shot was taken late enough to show the free-standing dishwasher at right, whose accession put an end to a retrospectively-treasured tradition of singing together at the sink after supper.

I think this stool came with us from Utah. Or if not, we had one there much like it. I remember it from a very early age. It turned out that a small person could achieve quite remarkable sympathetic vibrations in a common knife-sharpener by the simple expedient of setting it (the sharpener) on top of the tall kitchen stool and then dragging or pushing the latter across the linoleum*.
I recall being puzzled that Mammy wearied of my scientific investigations so rapidly and so decisively.

Pappy took this picture, and rather a lot of others, in support of vocabulary exercises for his French and Spanish students. He’d flash tachistoscopically through a whole tray of them, so that his charges could respond with the proper words. In those days, this qualified as high-tech language instruction. Pappy always did love his gadgets.

*Actually, this floor was more “modern” than linoleum: a rather early version of vinyl/asbestos tile. I remember “helping” Pappy install it, in a late stage of the remodeling process. Came away having added the term “mastic” to my nascent vocabulary.
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