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Aunt Olla called yesterday morning.

"I just read in the Fargo paper that gays can get married!"

Yes, I said, in Minnesota, at least.

"Well, isn't that nice!" 

She informed me that her schedule was clear enough so she could see company again. I wasn't aware that it had been full, but I usually go in once per week. So, I went in yesterday afternoon. 

I was digging in her desk drawers looking for her wallet, which she very successfully hides from herself and everybody else, when I came across an envelope of pictures from the 1920s through the 1940s. I had never seen the pictures before, and many of them had no writing on the back describing who was in the picture.

I started handing the photos to Aunt Olla. The stories came back, ones I have never heard. One picture was of Olla and a friend rowing a boat on Lake Koronis in 1943.

"Oh!" Olla said, "Helen told me the dirtiest joke that day!"

Seems a man was in the shower and a knock came at the door, so he grabbed a picture off the wall to cover himself with while answering the door. The person at the door kept staring down at him and so the naked man said, "What you looking at?"

Turns out the frame was empty. 

That's a pretty racy joke, at least by Aunt Olla's standards. 

I found two pictures of a boyfriend I never knew she had. "He was a nice guy, but not very bright. I didn't..." and she faded off shaking her head.

She's complaining about her hair, which is pretty long. I set up appointments, but then I think she cancels them because she's certain that all the hair dressers have taken to drink. Not sure what to do about that. Breathalyzer? 

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