Month: August 2023

The Fair

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Our beach town summer idyll continues and tonight Kim and I enjoyed one of the pinnacles of a Jersey shore summer and attended the local fireman’s fair a few blocks away here in Fair Haven. After dinner on the deck Kim and I wandered out as the sun sank in the west, an increasing number of people as we got closer and could hear the shrieking of the ride participants.

I want the cat knockdown dolls rather than the prizes offered but they weren’t an option!

Early in this blog I wrote a bit about this fair which I researched and discovered that it is one of the oldest and longest running fireman’s fairs in the country dating back to a more carnival form in 1906. (That post can be found here.)

Kim was very entertained by the colors of this one.

Tonight, night two in a week long run, it was jam packed with families and teens. We got there too early for the full brunt of couples on date night and instead caught a lot of young parents of toddlers. Without really knowing (tickets have gone digital and you use a quasi-ATM machine to get “Magic Money” and the lines for that and the rides were long) it seems like an expensive proposition with kids between food, rides and games.

This fireman didn’t have any takers for this rather traditional display of strength.

The fair raises enough money to pay for our volunteer First Aide force annually and is populated by volunteers. It seems like the rides and games are a set package that must just move around with some nominal personalization for the town it is in. The food concessions seem to be part of this, with the exception of clam chowder which was being sold at its own booth and I think made locally.

While I was tempted by the Ferris Wheel – I wondered if we could possibly see our house about a mile away – I was daunted by the rigamarole. Instead, Kim and I decided to buy tickets for a ride through the neighborhood on a fire truck. I don’t remember this as an option as a kid or a teen so maybe this is a latter addition. Like the chowder, the rides on the fire truck had its own ticket counter and took cash and handed back real tickets. We handed over our six dollars and got into what turned out to be a slow moving line of very small children and parents. An extended family was together in front of us.

The truck seats around 10 but there is much lap sitting among children. We were the fourth load of folks after getting in line. You bounce hard in the back of a fire truck and really you have to hold on. We of course weren’t going especially fast but it made me wonder about the art of holding on if you are racing to a fire. (Very short videos above – fun to turn the sound up!)

Kim was very enamored of this one and the possibilities for painting the sides as a job!

We transversed a very residential neighborhood and I wondered how they felt about the endless fire trucks passing all night for a week. Of course the siren and lights were an important part of the ride. The group was offered lollipops upon entry but the kids were already feted on sugar so the parents declined. (Kim and I had even just finished soft serve ice cream cones ourselves.) I don’t tend to run through this area but I think I will make a trip over there and see these homes over by the Navesink River.

Even the crankiest kids became enchanted with the few block drive through the dark of the night. Eventually we took a turn back onto the main drag and then back to our starting point and Kim and I headed home through the dark suburban streets.

Our Friend Felix

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Today I write of another delightful addition in a long line of my real photo postcards of people posing with Felix. These were mostly taken in Great Britain (although Australia and New Zealand were in it too, although those appear to largely be of the tintype variety) and this one made the trip across the ocean to join the Pictorama archive.

Like virtually all of these cards this one is postally unused and nothing is written on the back. Although I am not in New York with my full collection at my disposal, I realized almost immediately that this Felix is likely the star in at least one if not more of my other photos.

First there was this most recent purchase, shown below (with a post that can be found here) and while it is possible, the ears are perkier in the prior post and possibly a big white tooth missing or not shown in the latest one. The window backgrounds are also very similar.

However, in an earlier post, this one is pretty much a cinch to be the identical fellow – missing or unshown tooth and all! In some ways it is surprising this doesn’t happen more often. After all there are only so many places taking these photos and presumably not that many Felix-es in play. (The post with the below photo can be found here.)

Images from Pams-Pictorama.com collection

While both these little girls are cute the older one with the hat steals the show – even from Felix. She is delighted to have a hold of Felix’s outsized and overly long arm (all the better for throwing around fellow subjects it seems) and she grins broadly. Her outfit is pitch perfect with that lovely straw hat, decorated with flowers, embroidered collar, short pleated skirt and right down to her white ankle socks and black Maryjanes. The younger sibling (we’ll assume) is in layers of pretty white cotton, complete with bonnet and matching Maryjanes, but she has just been place in front of Felix and shows no real interest.

Of course Kim, cats and I are spending a few weeks at the Jersey shore and having a true summer vacation experience. Tomorrow night we are slated to enjoy the local fireman’s fair (which I wrote about a long time ago here – it turns out that my childhood fireman’s fair is quite a well known one) which I have not attended in decades. While I am excited for some cotton candy or perhaps a candy apple and a ride or two, sadly it seems unlikely I will get to pose with Felix for a photo – the seaside not being what it used to be. More to come about that, perhaps, on Sunday however.

Kid Stuff

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Vacation dawned here in NJ yesterday. Kim and I are officially “off” although I have to report to work one day this week and perhaps another the week after, nonetheless we are kicking up our heels a bit. Pictorama readers who have been following in real time know that although we had some trouble settling in, we have already started to adopt a vacation frame of mind. (Prior posts include ones here, here and here.)

So today, a quick little post devoted to one of a few bits of family art that survived the moves my parents did in the later years of their life. Having gone from a house chock full of art to much smaller digs, sadly not all the art made the moves. (I am most sad about a bronze sculpture of a horse running with a dog along side which my mom gave away.)

The painting I am posting about today was recently pulled out of a closet and hung over our bed. My mom said it was by Carolyn Wyeth (1909-1994), sister to Andrew and daughter of N.C., which is likely because my dad filmed a documentary on her many decades ago. Dad did most of the art buying and he would have found the opportunity like catnip and he held the opinion that she should have been better known.

I can’t find a signature on it but frankly not willing to take it off the wall to see if there’s one on the back. It could probably use at least a light cleaning and perhaps that would reveal a signature on the front. However, stylistically it seems right, especially the trees.

Anyway, I write about it because I have been very enamored of it since it arrived in the house when I was a small child. Although the wintery scene is not the most cheerful, it occupied my imagination for hours on end. I cannot remember what stories I made up about it in my mind, but as soon as I took it out the memory of making up such stories came racing back to me.

The lack of definition in the figures, bundled up against the snow and the cold, bothered me a bit. I guess I had my critical chops as a small child. But the not quite entirely monochromatic nature of it interested me even then. The tiniest bit of red on the figure on the porch was of great interest to me, long before I would have been able to explain why. The texture of the paint is satisfying, even without being thick.

It gave me satisfaction to have it back up and I find myself getting lost in it again, which after all, is what paintings are for.

Bonus photo of Blackie, embracing his Jersey adventure, earlier today.

Jersey Livin’

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: As I start this I sit in a train tunnel to NYC from NJ with an absurdly loud snoring generating from the seat in front of me. This man needs help I think.

The great summer experiment of 2023 got off to a rocky start (see the cats not eating post here) and although it has improved (cats have resumed eating and now are focused on fighting with the NJ cats) we are still in somewhat dubious turf, especially when it comes to developing my commuter chops.

Local honey. I run past here frequently and am tempted but how to get the honey home?

Last week, after a debilitating trip in for a breakfast appointment which was stymied by an express train that went local, I made it to Penn station in the nick of time to hop on. My commuter skills have been acquired painfully. I hopped on a train one evening in the nick of time only to discover that you cannot buy a ticket with a credit card on the train.

Anya and her double decker cat stroller.

To pay cash you pay a hefty fee so the conductor left me to try to put the app on my phone but it went into a repeating ring of spinney ball Hell, perhaps because the internet signal was coming and going. Much to my surprise, a very nice gentleman who was sitting next to me spontaneously bought my ticket for me which was lovely of him.

Then there was that Friday when the line I take stopped working and I hopped the ferry instead. A nice ride for me but miserable traffic for the friend who picked me up.

Historic house in Red Bank turned restaurant.

I am slowly returning to running here in Jersey. I lost the habit here toward the end of my mom’s illness when mornings were busy times. I got out and turned toward Red Bank the other day. I had a look at the summer set up – the main drag is closed to car traffic and created a pedestrian path and eating area.

Fig tree awaiting trnasplanting.

Post pandemic the town has suffered a loss of retail like many other places. Restaurants have done best in the rebirth thus far. There is a Tiffany – it is a wealthy area after all. I think of how we used to say that Tiffany set up in the beach communities to salve the conscience of the guilty husbands coming from Manhattan for the weekend, leaving their summer seasonal mistresses in New York. This year I have a taste of being the husband but I can assure Kim (and cats) that they have nothing to fear from my evenings alone in Manhattan – hence no trips to Tiffany.

Local Tiffany’s for those last minute gifts…

For all of the trouble settling in and getting settled, we are now and we are having good days here. The cats are eating on their own. Blackie has annexed a bedroom next to ours and now has two rooms firmly in paw. (Approximately the size of our apartment in Manhattan ironically.) He is finally appearing to enjoy himself some. Cookie has decided that most of her days will be spent behind Kim’s chair, less pioneering spirit in her. Thus far the New Jersey cats seem to take them with a grain of salt.

Lunch and dinner is mostly consumed on our deck off the kitchen where we can survey the beauty of the garden. A fig tree is the most recent acquisition, purchased with two figs on it and several more already peeking out. Tomato and pepper plants are producing now and the herbs are in full cry. A jasmine plant acquired a few months back has its first bloom although my vision of evenings heady with the smell of jasmine may have to wait for another year.

Ferry was crowded last Friday when train went down.

I have strung fairy lights around the deck and added solar ones in both the front and back which also pop on as it gets dark. A portable speaker and my phone are all we need to play some music. Hummingbirds make a sunset appearance at some flowering trees. As dark falls and the lights twinkle on, tiny bats swoop in to feast on the mosquitoes – which have been feasting on me. Fireflies blink (do the bats eat them too?) and I think that yes, this is summer at its best and at last.

Tuxie

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: I have always been partial to tuxedo cats. There were several prior to Cookie who is the current puss to claim that title here at Deitch Studio. This old photo postcard came in over the transom recently. It was never mailed and there is nothing written on the back. I think there is something very sincere about it – not a great photo but perhaps a beloved one. It is unclear to me what kitty is perched on but it creates a seamless background.

I like his mug. Uneven spotty nose markings, not unlike Cookie whose markings are a bit uneven as well. He looks right into the camera – either getting up or settling down. He has a nice white chest, long whiskers and fat white paws.

A tiny Blackie from 2013.

The first tuxedo of my acquaintance was a cat named Mitzie. She was one of a bevvy of cats during my childhood, a small friendly female. She lived quietly and well behaved, sort of in the middle of the pack in the house at that time. (A photo disclaimer – I cannot access my full library of cat photos from NJ and my mom’s are still in disorder so you are not getting a full cat display today, just Cookie and Blackie!)

A no nonsense Cookie recently. Mom loved photos of Cookie sitting this way.

And my first very own cat was a tux and she was a girl cat I named Otto Dix. She had perfectly even markings and was an especially smart cat and we were truly of one mind. She slept on my pillow at night and picked and choose through my boyfriends in an opinionated way. My mom broughther home for me from the local farm, Sickles, still known for its corn. (She swooned over the smell of corn silk her entire life.) Otto famously puked up a stomach worm on the pillow of one paramour – you don’t forget something like that too quickly. Luckily she adored Kim from day one.

My sister adopted a tux she found in a parking lot here in New Jersey while walking her dog. It was the dog’s cat and therefore she named her Milkbone. Milkbone was a good mouser and a lovely cat. Loren always said that she should have been my cat but I had just adopted my next tuxie named Zippy.

An equally early Cookie – they are siblings.

Zips was an unqualified and undeniable moma’s boy. He pretended fear of Kim roughly up to his dying day. I found him in an antique jewelry store. I had gone to look at lockets and came back with Zippy. He lived to a very long life. During Zippy’s reign there was the very wonderful tux named Roscoe who was a huge lovable fellow.

Our Blackie, all black except for a white spot on his chest, like a badge, is a not quite tux to Cookie’s tux-ness. (He has white underpinnings too but you need to know him well to see those.)

Blackie eating on his own at long last!

In wrapping this post, I will report that this morning, as I waffled on whether or not I needed to hand feed Blackie so he could get a shot of insulin, he marched over to his dish like a regular fellow and ate some breakfast. I would say he and Cookie are not quite up to their usual consumption but both are eating out of dishes, a bit more dry food than usual, but in approved normal fashion. Whew. Now they are starting to eye the threshold of the bedroom and what is beyond. I’m sure there’s more to come!

I Love Her and She Loves Me

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Back in May of ’20 I purchased a card in this series for Kim. I had never seen the work of the artist Clivette and I wrote a post on him and the card which can be found here, and another shortly after which can be found here. I understand from a reader that Mr. Clivette was a much bigger deal than I had figured out so I am not sure I have given him his full due. A few weeks ago I was making a purchase on Instagram and threw this card onto the order at the last minute.

Although unstamped the back does have childish writing in pencil. It says, Miss Ina S Chilling, Wray, Colo.

Back of the card.

Unlike the Butler Deitch kits, whom we will discuss in a minute, these are white cats instead of black ones and if you are like me you might subscribe to the theory that different color cats have different natures. White cats are a bit more prim than black ones in my opinion. Years ago my mom had one named Kittsy. She was extremely timid, pinkish eyes and never grew much beyond kitten-sized.

We are two little kitties
As kind as can be
I love her and she loves me

Although this card professes the affection between these felines they don’t look especially fond of each other frankly.

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

For those of you following the tale of our summer decamp to New Jersey you already know that Cookie and Blackie have taken the move hard and have gone on a hunger strike of sorts. Although Cookie is showing signs of starting to eat on her own after a week of hand feeding, Blackie will not take the plunge. In addition, they appear to take no comfort in each other and in fact I just had to break up a growling, hissing fiesta. Brother and sister they have always been together, but sibling affection evidently only goes so far in Catland.

Turns out that Beau is Blackie’s doppleganger! Here they are having a moment. Beau has been very welcoming.

I have known cats who evidenced real affection for each other. Growing up we had a long skinny orange chap named Squash and he had an extreme fondness for another cat of the house. I am having trouble remembering which cat he used to curl up with. They would sleep with their arms around each other.

As I write this, late on Friday night, at long last I hear the gentle crunch, crunch, crunch of Blackie eating some dry food from the dish!

Giddyup!

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: I bought this photo during my work trip to Poughkeepsie recently. I had a couple of hours one morning and a colleague and I ran out to a few antique stores and over time Pictorama readers will be the beneficiary of several posts about those over time.

I snatched this one up in the first shop which was a real treat with shelves and walls laden with interesting bits. The photo caught my eye almost immediately. Such a happy little fellow!

At first glance I thought this photo was taken inside (something about the stairs and something that looks like a banister but I think is a fencepost) and that was a bit of a head scratcher. That made me wonder if the pony was real. At closer examination it was taken outside and of course it is a real pony – a bit blurry since he didn’t stay still.

Huge cowboy hat (a ten gallon hat on a five gallon size head?) atop his head, this young’un is decked out from head to toe with a kerchief and chaps, down to his tiny riding boots. On careful examination there are stirrups that hang down for decoration or use by a larger person and our pint-sized cowboy has his boots tucked into smaller, shorter ones.

Our pony is a natty little fellow too with his or her shiny bridle. There’s something about the precise focus of the little boy versus the slight blur of the pony’s head that creates a sense of movement and dimension. There is some sort of chemical mistake behind the horse, a dark blot drawing your eye back.

Set up as freestanding.

The cardboard self-frame is nice and cheery. There is a ribbon to tie it closed or it can stand on its own which is how it was when I first spied it.

On this trip I was with a new colleague who I was getting to know a bit better. As it happens he hails from Nova Scotia and revealed in conversation that his family had horses growing up and he actually had a pony. However, he also said that he was kicked more than once by said pony, as well as some of the other horses on occasion. He was not left with a lasting love of horses as a result. Food for thought but despite that story, I can’t help think that the boy in the photo was one lucky fellow.

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Blackie sitting with my computer and bag of vitamins and meds this AM.

Update on the NJ cat fiesta. Cookie remains under the blankets on the bed. She slept behind my knees last night. Blackie is starting to venture out a bit and came to me for some purrs and conversation. Beau (another all black cat who was rather amazed to find a doppleganger in the house) tried to make friends, but Blackie was not ready and sent out a series of quiet hisses. However, neither of them is willing to eat! I am stymied by their combined continued refusal and even offered tuna. Please send advice if any!

Peaches and Beau, largely undisturbed by the visiting felines in the bedroom.

The Cat House, aka The House of Seven Cats: the Prelude

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Pam’s Pictorama (better late than never) Post: Today is the day! In a few short hours Deitch Studio will pull up temporary stakes and head to the hinterlands of New Jersey (out in the country my grandfather used to say although we would have defined it more as suburbia) with all the denizens of Deitch Studio (Kim, me AND Cookie and Blackie) for a month of Jersey shore magic.

For those of you who haven’t followed the tale, I inherited a small house and five cats in New Jersey at the end of April when my mom died after a long illness. Someone on the Jersey side tends to cats and the house and I go back and forth ongoing. It is my first go at home ownership aside from a studio apartment co-op in Manhattan which has the blessing of coming equipped with a superintendent and staff. Like all those before me in such a venture, I am somewhat overwhelmed by the demands of a house and yard – not to mention a grand total of seven cats when we add in the New Yorkers, Cookie and Blackie.

Beau and Miltie, utterly unconcerned with new cats in the bedroom.

I have taken to parts of it amazingly well. Mom had a beautiful garden and it turns out to be in the blood as I have not only maintained it, but already added to it. (Full disclosure, I have lots of help.) My addition has been a small herb garden, strawberries, peppers and lots of tomatoes! Comestibles! I don’t know how green my thumb is, but I have enjoyed the adventure thus far and it seems nothing short of a miracle to grow food we eat.

Blackie’s carrier earlier today…

However, compared to what has come before, the addition of two NY kitties to the bevy of cats in New Jersey is an event. Our cats, Cookie and Blackie, have never met other cats. As far as they know, they are the only such specimens in the world. Imagine their surprise later today when they are thrust into the den of five others – oy! They will spend their first few days (minimum) in our bedroom to acclimate.

The New Jersey crew consists of: Beauregard (aka Beau – undeniably mom’s favorite), Milty, Gus, Peaches and (the ever shy) Stormy. Aside from Milty, who is a true senior citizen but not going anywhere anytime soon, the rest are quite young so my cat farm enterprise seems unlikely to diminish in the near future. It was mom’s last and most urgently stated wish that I keep the house and cats so, crazy though it seems, that is what I am doing and hopefully today is the beginning of a new chapter of feline detente and future such trips can be planned.

Look very hard for the hidden Cookie!

I have employed our friends at Chewy.com (we’re super tight now) to send food and litter that will help fairly replicate C&B’s precise existence here in New York. I think we have a rough morning ahead however.

Likewise, over time, I have assembled a fair replica (I hope) of the working bits of Deitch Studio (our NYC home) so that Kim too will not miss much from our Manhattan perch. As for me I have a week or two of at least semi-commuting before I enjoy a few weeks of all New Jersey.

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We arrived! Cats were quite well behaved considering and while they were not silent, they made relatively little fuss. However, Cookie refuses to come out of her carrier (maybe she thinks if she stays in it we will take her back to NY sooner?) and Blackie took up residence in the closet but has now disappeared again which means at least he was willing to wander around a bit?

The deck at lunchtime today. Avocado toast on tap!

A friend and her houseguest wandered by earlier and we had lunch on the deck. Wynton’s newly released archival album of the Hot 5’s and Hot 7’s (recorded in 2006 and put out on Friday, find it for free download on Amazon music here, but available on a bunch of platforms) played on a new portable speaker. While Cookie and Blackie remain unconvinced, I think Kim and I are already adjusting to the quiet of summer life here. More to come, but I think a good month of low key adventure ahead.

I promise to return to the land of Felix and other toy treats tomorrow!