//a dispatch from Jamie Thomson//
I spent a lot of time this summer helping my family’s neighbors, Lester and Lella, clean their attic, which was great, because they paid me, and because they are among my favorite people to spend time with in Northampton. When we weren’t sorting through things, we sat on their porch and drank juice and talked, slowly and easily. Up amongst the things we found was a series of family scenes from the 1950s or 60s, perhaps intended to teach a class, though the material didn’t seem so clear to me. Instead of bringing them to the dump, I tried my best to decipher the lesson.
by Jamie Thomson