RELATIVES OR NOT? PICTURE THIS PICTURE MESS

I inherited so many old pictures of people I don't know. My relatives, or not? 
There are gazillions, or maybe so many that there isn't a number large enough to quantify how many pictures have "come" to me. More than a room full.  

I've decided to turn the arduous task of having to deal with them into a writing exercise. Namely, stick my hand in a box of them, pull one out, and write..............fun?

Feel free to join in. Send your stories to: trularae@gmail.com.

ME AND MY BOY 

"No boys. We can't afford no studio picture. Get Gus socks this year. Lord knows he needs 'em. His feet eats socks."  Sogg had more reasons than no money for not wanting to put a picture of the boys all lined up, close for comparing, in front of Gus. 

"That's what Gus said he wanted for Father’s Day. A studio picture of his family." Reb whined, then his shoulders drooped as he slumped out through the front screened door before Sogg told him to do that very thing; to quit his whining and get on out to his chores. The other boys followed Reb out like they always follow him. Reb's two shadows.

Sogg began ruminating on years gone by. Gus never showed any sign of doubt about all three boys being his. He was always glad to hear another boy was coming. Lord knows he needed more work hands to help out around the farm. He jumped and clicked his heels together each time the doctor yelled, “It’s a boy!” Gus know’d better than to leave his cow out to pasture when the neighbor kept his capable bull in the pasture just the other side of an adjoining fence line. The gold rush out in California caused him to forget about caring for his cows, his home, his family.  When he got home there was a few extra calves in the pasture, a few extra boys in the house, and not one question about 'neither from Gus.

Sogg yelled to the boys from the porch. "Reb!" All three come a running. "Run on over to Sally's and tell her I need to borrow her polaroid. We'll get your Pa that picture."

What remains of our past?