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Click. It Was Janet and Mary, Mary and Janet.
My mother's camera was never far away, usually in her apron pocket. You'd think Mary was her only child and she had to document every fascinating moment of her childhood. I can still see her sitting at my sister's feet in the evening looking every bit like Rapunzel as Janet brushed and braided her long blonde locks instead of playing 500 Rummy with me. Not that I would sit still for it now.