I don’t think I’m related to Buster Keaton. Maybe. But I don’t think so.

One in a series of photos from a great big album I inherited from my Mother, full of snapshots of people who may or may not be related to me. I have no idea who these people are. I don’t think my Mother does, either.

Any idea what kind of car that is? Any idea at all? A really old one, that’s all I know. Like Harold Lloyd old. Buster Keaton old. I’ve never seen a car that old in motion, only on display in museums. Looks nice and shiny, like they take it out for a spin only on weekends for trips to the countryside. Bet they can get it up to twenty-five miles an hour on a straight, level road. Not that I’d want to. That thing looks like it would be pretty easy to roll.

Is she wearing a rolled-up bath towel on her head? Please tell me she isn’t.