The Walls Have Ears

The walls have ears...

And eyes.

And a mouth.

And a little 60's era, Perry-Mason-esque head scarf, too.

When Maurice and Louis were tearing out my 'bar cupboard' this morning, they got a few surprises.

Hidden in the wall, fluttering out to the floor when the cupboard came down, was a loose packet of old photographs.

This one, in particular, captivated me.

It's a passport photo, I'd guess, but doesn't it look like the sort of thing that Patrick McGoohan would take out of his billfold and show to backwater hotel managers as he's sneaking through Eastern Europe in a 1965-era episode of Danger Man?

I have no idea who this woman is (the mother, perhaps, of the original owners of our house, ca. 1975). But I keep coming back to her stony gaze, the set of her jaw, and that 'going for a ride in my son's convertible' hair-scarf. I think I'll put it in a little frame, and put it up on the wall in the stairwell with all the other 'cool family photos'. My mom has a photo of Wayne Gretzky on her wall, taken at some restaurant when they were both there. It's just slipped in with all the other candid family shots, and it makes for some fun conversations.

Just think of the possibilities.

"Kemma! Who's this on your wall?"

"Oh, that's Great Aunt Dagmar just before she snuck across No Man's Land and escaped from behind the Iron Curtain..."

"No. Really. Who's this on your wall?"