Stormy

Pam’s Pictorama Post: Perhaps not surprising as a large swath of the country buckles down to what could be the most substantial snowfall of many years, that this photo (just in the door from my friend @marsh.and.meadow via Instagram) should be top of my pile for today.

Mounted and undated, other than a bit of damage at its edges it is in good shape. It seems it was a treasured photo despite it being overexposed, although somehow it works with the effect of the snow. This little boy is wearing the kind of long coat I think of more for an adult, but I guess he maneuvered on his sled just find nonetheless. (I bought a very long down coat this year to replace one I have been wearing for decades. It has zippers in the side so I can actually walk in it or keep it zipped all around in terrible cold. I can’t image it on a sled though.) He wears a cheery sort of beret and sort of has the look of a race car driver standing next to his beloved vehicle which is why I purchased it.

*Early morning view out the window of the apartment this morning.*

He has a very elaborate sled. Better is painted on the side but I cannot read the rest and there is more – it is obscured by a sort of jointed wooden handle – perhaps to steer? How would that work? The top of this sled is made of wooden planks – it all looks very heavy for a sled. The runners are the carved bottom. I think you would need some heavy snow to take advantage of this design. Growing up we were the generation that moved from the traditional wood with red metal runners to dishes of metal or plastic which picked up great speed, even in less snow. Growing up near the ocean and a river it was frequently a bit too warm for much snow to hang around.

This card came from the Midwest and they do generally know something about snow out there. I am not sure if that is a house or a barn behind him, behind a fence. Skeletons of denuded winter tress are visible and it is snowing as the photo was taken, white dots on his dark clothes, gathering still all around. (As it is out my window right now – a complete white out here on the 16th floor, looking north.)

*Snow at the house in Jersey last weekend.*

Last Sunday I was in New Jersey and shoveling some of it in the evening. Monday dawned to an unusually pretty day of snow – everyone was talking about how picture perfect it was. It was a holiday for many including from school and provided ample opportunity for sledding down a very large hill near my house which I drove past. A pretty church, aptly named Tower Hill, sits at the top. I’ve run up that hill and it is steep! Perfect for sledding however. Growing up, it was a bit too far for us to get a ride two towns over, so I think I ever sledded there once or twice and when I was older. It would have seemed like Everest as a little kid. I want to say my folks drove us to a hill near my grandmother in a town called Long Branch, but I don’t remember where really.

*Tower Hill Church, the slope continues down about three times as far as what is shown here – unobstructed and perfect for sledding.*

Living near the ocean and between twin rivers, it was frequently too warm for snow to stay around long. Snowstorms also often caused flooding which meant water (river water) on the ground rather than snow and certainly not driving anywhere. Therefore, the perfect sledding snow day was a bit rarified. Here in Manhattan we have sledding hills in Central Park and even a small one here near me in Carl Schurz park. I bet the kids are heading over even early this morning although maybe everyone being kept inside while it is coming down so hard.

Weirdly when I watch the Winter Olympics I have a vague yearning to try the luge and skeleton. There is a place in upstate New York for training and the thought always tempts me, no idea why that particular sport speaks to me. My girl cat Cookie likes to watch it with me – television interests her and anything zipping around like that is a bonus. I was born in a blizzard (and as a February baby I also have many snowy birthday memories of plans canceled or adjusted for the celebration) so maybe it was born into me.

Meanwhile, at work we will likely be the only animal hospital open and our vets and techs who come from a broad swath of the tri-state area will have trouble getting in, but of course animals will still need us. Most of the interns and residents are a bit closer – we provide some housing not far from the hospital. It is a bit sad for me that my first thoughts about snow are practical about slippery sidewalks and shoveling at the house, getting to work and losing power – instead of fun and beauty. I will try to repair my sense of wonder, dream about fast sleds and do some cozy cooking and at home projects.

New Brunswick, NJ

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: I grabbed this up as soon as I saw this little collaged beauty. I am not sure that I immediately digested the weirdness of it entirely but being a Jersey girl at heart I thought it was pretty hotsy totsy. Like many recent posts it came from the postcard show last fall and it went into a pile I am only recently digging into.

Born and bred in the Garden State I admit that I may never have so much as driven through New Brunswick. Looking at the map of the state I must have (may have?) as it is nestled in the crook of the state, just above Monmouth County, heading north and a smidge west. This sounds a bit odd but we didn’t drive west all that often growing up. North of course took you to New York but generally we went up the coast. South brought you to Freehold which seemed to be required occasionally; Princeton where my sister went to school, and ultimately Philadelphia on occasion – we had a cousin there. I rarely made it to the bottom corner of the state, probably not until college and after.

*For those of you who don’t have the map of the state handy in your head.*

The northwest of the state was a rare event. Flemington is up there (I have a friend who moved there recently – hey Hope!), where I can remember going only a few times – it felt exotic. Even our forays into Pennsylvania were usually made by going more south or directly across the state. Years ago I spent some time hiking with a friend along the beautiful Delaware water gap. Christine grew up in that area and knew it well but it was the first time I spent much time there. All this to say that New Brunswick always sat slightly north and west of where I had my formative years and somehow I never much got there or maybe knew if I did. It belongs in a vague category of North Jersey that I would have used when I lived there.

This card is hometown proud indeed. A rendering of a pansy has a collaged-on head and shoulders of a woman in turn-of-the-century finery, wearing a be-ribboned or flower covered hat. She wears the pansy petals like a dress and on each petal is a local building of note shown as actual postcards of significant sites on each petal. They are: Washington public school, Livingstone Avenue High School, St. Peters Parochial School, Carnegie Library, and the Post Office. Clearly they thought highly of their educational institutions.

*New Brunswick Carnegie Public Library, in a contemporary but undated photo.*

The Carnegie Library, shown above, seems to be the only one that is definitely unaltered. I’m on the fence about the post office, shown below, which could be the same building from another angle and with different things around it obviously. The schools have long been replaced (or in the case of the parochial school possibly disappeared) by newer structures. (My own high school in Rumson still exists intact with its old building but a certain amount of building on has happened. You can still see the bones of it however.)

*The Post Office in New Brunswick – I believe it is the one shown in the postcard. The windows are the same.*

Someone has written the initials JHB in the lower right, under Greetings from New Brunswick, NJ. On the back, also written in pencil it says Miss Ethel Hardy, 5 John Street, City. However, it was never mailed and it is incomplete. Another version of the card I found online was mailed in 1908 according to a cancellation mark.

The card was published by Hammel Bros., New Brunswick, NJ. It was made (printed) in Austria however. Hammel Brothers, not surprisingly, seemed to special in cards of a local nature in New Brunswick, NJ, although I do wonder how they would have made a business out of that bit of limited fame and for how long. They have not left many tracks and mostly there are references to a brewery of a similar name and time in New Mexico.

As you read this I will be packing up and heading to New Jersey this morning. As per yesterday’s post, there is snow on the ground (more overnight and a fair amount coming down now) and still a bit more throughout the day, hopefully in a desultory sort of way. Anyway, a tip of the hat to my home state and the undiscovered treasure of New Brunswick from a time passed.

Still Young

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: The year is still young enough flash this New Year card, found in the pile on my desk back here in our New York HQ at Deitch Studio. We made the trek back, cats tucked unhappily in their carriers, a few days ago, this past Wednesday. A food delivery (love ya Fresh Direct) will arrive in a bit. After spending the morning with you all here at Pictorama, I will finish unpacking us, break down a bunch of boxes that we moved art supplies and food in, and life will slowly resume its Manhattan manifestation until the summer when the whole crew will decamp again. I will of course be in New Jersey periodically looking in on the Jersey Five (cats) and continuing my efforts to convert Peaches to a pet-able house cat.

Like almost everyone around me, I have started the New Year with a bad cold which is hanging on tenaciously. Meanwhile, Blackie seems a bit morose which leaves us scratching our heads – we know he doesn’t miss the other cats there. Was his spot on a chair in the sun that nice? Or under another chair and near a heat vent? He’s eating but carrying an expression of world weariness. He hisses at Cookie as if he never met her before – something he does when we return to the apartment.

Okay, onto the postcard! I don’t know how I missed this brilliant card when piling up ones for New Jersey, but I did and I cannot wait a whole year to share it. This one has weirdly wonderful all over it. It wasn’t cheap but it was among some items I considered a bit of a bargain when purchased last fall.

I am a longstanding sucker for a good moon face and this one certainly qualifies; I could not ask for better. What really kills me is the weird little skirt-wearing body they have attached it too. (Is the moon a woman?) Weird nebulous feet on sort of fat baby-esque legs and the amorphous body is finished off with hands that look like they belong to yet something else. That moon head just floats though and is more substantial so at first you don’t put it together with the body, but then you do and chuckle!

The cheeky cherubs, in the arms of the moon, have a champagne bottle, held by one while the other toasts (or is it offering the glass to the moon?) with a glass full of bubbly. Dark clouds fill an even darker blue green sky behind them. Because it is dark it is hard to see but this card is lightly embossed, the cherubs in the highest relief but the clouds are gently shaped too, the moon’s dress also in low relief giving it texture. It wishes us A Happy New Year at the bottom in an Arts and Crafts writing so decorative it takes a minute to read it.

*Back of card – what is the aunt’s name?*

This card is postmarked on December 30, 1907, from somewhere in Pennsylvania; the town is illegible. To the best of my ability to read the brown ink script it says: Hello! Auntie: – How you feeling by this time red’d your letter this morning am very glad your roommate studys [sic] harmony once in a while. Your niece Ethel. It is address to Miss Grace Mangst, Warrin. Ohio D.M.J. No maker mark is in evidence on the card – which is too bad because these folks had something going on. I don’t usually hang seasonal cards but this one’s a gem.

Of course the big 2026 news here at Deitch Studio is Kim’s book, How I Make Comics is coming out in April. It is on pre-order – find it here. We find ourselves already deeply immersed in how to help launch this book. In the service of promoting it, I am toying with doing a podcast where Kim and I will talk about the origins of the stories and his history in comics. As I have previously with other intimidating projects (I know nothing about recording and editing), I share this with you all to help keep me honest about working on it. However, I am also asking you to weigh in on the idea. Is it a good one? Will folks listen? Or should I keep to my tip tap typing? Please weigh in below or leave a comment.

A New Year

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: This year the New Year brought a lousy head cold which I am only just recovering from. It was fairly well timed for a day or so of laying around and reading which arguably is what I should have been doing under any circumstances. The novels are largely not worth mentioning – a rom com about a woman who finds she is dating an android (I thought it had more possibilities than it delivered) and Buckeye which seems to be everyone’s novel of the moment – deservedly. It is very good and fair to say it is sort of an instant classic. (Sadly I am still looking for my next Rosa Mulholland fix. Prior posts about those books can be found here and here. I have read a few since then and owe you all an update.)

Cold notwithstanding this has been a nice holiday visit to NJ. Cookie has made progress and now comes down the stairs to look at first floor activity. She sits in a chair in Kim’s studio like a little queen, much better adjusted to her NJ surroundings than she used to be.

Peaches, we have an ongoing dialogue these days about trying to be a better kitty.

Peaches, our very asocial girl – aka the meanest cat in the world – is make surprising progress in her relation to humans and other cats. I have tried having long conversations with her about this and she listens carefully. She now is willing to sit on a towel near my chair even if I cannot actually pet her. (She’s also showed us how, when atop another chair, she chases her tail in a frenzy – and she has tried, less successfully, to steal food from her very large sibling, Beau. I have written Peaches story here if you want to read it.)

*Kim’s page – hot off the press, or perhaps still on it!*

Shown above, Kim is working on a spectacular pencil for his next story. It speaks for itself! (Check out that polar bear! And the snow!) He is making good use of his time here.

We’ve paid a visit to the comic book store and, obviously given yesterday’s post, to the Red Bank Antique Annex. I also purchased this very nice camel (in photo at the top and which is part of a Christmas set – I will likely keep him in my cabinet year round however) and a nice Santa shown here too. Red Bank was pleasantly decked out in small town holiday mode with lights – although you also get to see Macy’s just before the holiday, snapped on my way to the train on one of the days I commuted into the city.

*Macy’s during my commute in right before Christmas.*

Kim and I had a cozy lunch that day at a favorite place I have written about before, Dublin House. This is an old Victorian house which has been converted to a restaurant and bar. Originally built in neighboring Middletown, it was moved across the river to Red Bank back in 1840. It was first rehabilitated back in 1971 as a ice cream parlour and restaurant. The current owners purchased it in 2004 and turned it into a rather authentic Irish enclave. (Kim and I can vouch for the “Irish nachos” which are cheesy greatness on homemade chips – yum!) There is a fireplace in the small dining room which makes it perfect for a frosty day. In the summer, door-sized windows open to outside dining on a porch and outside area. Some original details remain such as the windows shown here.

*Interior of Dublin House earlier last week.*

As I write there is a huge cat dust up in Kim’s studio – Blackie skulking up the stairs to give his sister Cookie a hard time. Kim is being referee but maybe some extra food might make Blackie less adventurous.

*View from the car driving to the train one morning in darkness with Red Bank’s twinkle lights.*

We had enough snow during this visit that I shoveled the walk and driveway twice, but was sick and skipped the most recent dusting. Luckily snow melt from a prior shoveling was still doing its job. It is a snowy winter compared to last year when we didn’t have any to memory.

*Christmas display at the Antique Annex.*

Kim and I had a little project of hanging some things up. You might remember these from prior posts – they have made their way here for permanent relocation. I also have the great Louis Wain sheet that I purchased and framed a few months ago. Heavy as it is, I am waiting for help to put that up. However, in addition to yesterday’s pig painting, we hung an interesting black cat piece from England and several photos that I purchased here for the house. The house is slowly acquiring a more distinctive Pictorama appearance.

So, well enough to make a grocery run today, I am going to leave off and go get dressed. We leave in the middle of the week so it will be an NYC post the next time you hear from me!

Deitch Studio: Christmas 2025

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Arguably the most popular day on the Pictorama calendar – the holiday card reveal – and here we are again! For the third year now, with Kim’s blessing, I have attempted all seven cats – the Jersey Five and the New York cats combined as the illustration. As has become our pattern, I draw it and he then redraws, traces and inks it. The cats have stayed true to my drawing as has the design. Us in the sleigh is more him and the moon has become a good old Deitchian moon. I think it is a fair melding hybrid of our styles.

Kim noted that the cats look a bit like balloons here – of the Thanksgiving parade kind. Some more than others – Stormy hovering over Christmas is the most balloon like. (She is a pretty dreamy kitty. One of the last of the strays mom acquired.) Evidently a slow moving sleigh now that I reflect on it.

For the record and the curious, the top row from left to right are Blackie, Milty, Gus, Cookie and bottom row, Beau, Peaches and Stormy. Milty is the oldest and Peaches and Stormy roughly tie for youngest and last into the house. Cookie and Blackie are the only ones from the same litter (our New York kits) and Blackie and Beau share their all black cat-ness.

As I do the card reveal this year I need to apologize a bit – it seems I have lost my address book which I have had since college. Although many addresses have migrated to my electronic book, many of the oldest ones have not and among those I don’t necessarily have emails or numbers to text either. Someone pointed out that the universe was trying to tell me something.

I didn’t see it at first but someone pointed out that Kim has candy cane horns – I must ask him if it was on purpose or if he was having subliminal Grampus urges. Now I don’t know how I missed it.

If you are new to the card reveal, this joint card project goes back to the first year Kim and I started dating (predating Pictorama by decades) and has developed over time. Some earlier examples can be found here, here and here.

As you read this on Sunday morning we will (hopefully) be packed up and on our way to New Jersey with Cookie and Blackie in tow. We spent today (Saturday) organizing and filling boxes and suitcases so the cats are suspicious – sleeping on the bed with one eye slightly open I’d say.

When we get to the house I am anxious to see if my holiday swags of evergreens have lasted on the front railings. I will take out my few holiday decorations – oversized colored lights will go in the fireplace, an elderly Santa made of lead skiing and a few other choice bits that will live on the mantle – one of the few cat free spaces in the house. (That of course is always subject to change if a cat is enterprising enough!)

*Hard to read beyond Mr. and Mrs. Will Claff. How on earth did this get delivered I wonder.*

I thought I would bookend this post with another card I bought this fall. Sent on December 23, 1914. It was sent from Brockport, NY but the address is hard to read as is the message. Of course it was the idea of the nifty cat pull toy on the front that did it for me, bow and all. I like the little poem too which says, I send this kissy kat because I cannot go like Santa Claus, to give my Christmas love to you, or kiss you – as I’d like to do. So a Merry Christmas to you all – a few New Year’s cards tucked away next.

Family

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: I feel like I used to find more photos like this one for the Pictorama archive. I discovered this on eBay. Unfortunately it is quite faded, I have even assisted it a bit here. Still, this family with their mostly matching haircuts and each girl sporting a member of a kitten family was too good resist.

This photo postcard was never mailed and the clothes on the kids are sort of timeless, but I would guess maybe the 1920’s or 30’s. They are posed by the “side of the house” from what I can figure. I would say spring considering the shortness of the grass, the clothes and of course the kittens they hold.

*My sister Loren in an undated photo I keep next to my desk at home. Judging from the car I would say from the early 1980’s.* *If I was in NJ I might find a photo of all of us. Will have to wait!*

You can’t really see it easily but there is a great variety in kittens here. From left to right we have a tortie, a tabby, a sort of gray soft stripe and a gray tuxie. Not at all impossible that they are all from the same litter however.

These kids are clearly also of the same litter! Far from identical, however there is a strong family resemblance brought out further by their matching bowl style hair cuts. Each one wears it a bit differently though – bangs aside or straight, one where they are cropped short. The girl in the plaid dress is clearly the eldest but the exact order of the others is left to our musing.

A close look at their faces and the girls look more alike to each other than they do with the man who I have been assuming is dad. Family resemblance is a strange thing I always think. Sometimes I am sitting on the subway or walking down the street and a family passes and all I can think is that they could never deny all being related. This always comes to mind in my reading of early novels (someone denying a child is theirs) and this was satisfied as a plot point in a Rose Mulholland novel recently – the striking resemblance to her father could not be denied! More on that possibly as a tomorrow post.

*A still young Cookie and Blackie bearing some resemblance here.*

My family sort of mixed and matched with familial likeness – not looking alike, stronger resemblance to one parent when young and then another. My sister and I, she of the curly hair and I of the straight, never looked much alike however once someone who knew me from work walked up to my brother and announced we must be siblings. (We were at a rare moment, like these girls, when we were sporting approximately the same haircut.)

My brother may be surprised to hear me say it but, although he and I have always looked more strongly like my mother’s side of the family, I saw a recent photo where he looks very much like our father. (I think it is the beard Edward.) Kim has a rather extraordinary family likeness with his brothers and I gather his fraternal grandmother from whom he inherited his distinctive eyes. There is an additional family resemblance though also to both his mother and his father.

This is of course also true for cats and cat families. My mom used to quote from an old genetics text that this kind of cat and that kind of cat likely to produce this or this cat. I could never keep it straight.

There are days when you can tell that Cookie and Blackie hatched from the same mom and dad combo. Other times, Cookie being smaller, mightier and a tuxie to Blackie’s bigger all black handsomeness makes it appear as if there is no resemblance.

*Beau (left) and Blackie meet for the first time.*

The one litter of kittens I grew up with bore a remarkable resemblance to each other (variations on gray and tabby striped), but not to their mother (Winkie, a tortie) at all. And for that reason perhaps, she utterly disowned any knowledge of them after a point. I have commented on how Blackie and Beauregard (the all black male kitty of the Jersey Five) stared at each other, clearly in recognition of the fact that they looked alike. (A post about the New York cats meeting the New Jersey cats can be found here.)

It is too bad no one thought to include the mom cat in this photo – assuming she was a denizen of the same household. It would have rounded things out nicely. It is fun to speculate that the cats and the kids grew up over time side by side.

Hat’s Off

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: As I wake up on this pretty fall morning, the folks over here at WordPress told me that some of you are hard at work reading away. It is fun to see and thank you all as always for your dedicated reading and attention. It’s nice to know that you are out there and I hope you are enjoying your wander around the Pictorama world. Welcome today to all readers both new and longstanding. It pleases me to think that there are folks who want to read about cats, toys and my minor exploits.

I have an interesting little addition for this post, a postcard from the big buy a few weeks back, of a cat having chewed through a hat. Seems like an odd image to make a postcard of – have to wonder if the artist had a real incident on his mind. The cat is rather pleasantly benign for a chapeau eating demon. He is of the, aren’t I cute so you can’t possibly kill me school I guess. Why would he chew through a hat though? Must have been so pleasantly stinky.

This card appears to have been produced in Eastern Europe – ambitious felines there I guess. It is an embossed image, a very old, worn man’s hat with this sweet faced, long haired kit having munched through it. This card was mailed from Fort Scott, Kansas at 11 AM, on March 21, 1908.

*Back of the card. Is actually a bit easier to read in this photo than in person.*

The pencil writing on the back is very faded and a bit illiterate. The best I can make out is, 3-20-1908 avrr – all ok and a card from Pec. he did not say when he was coming back expect we wont come til Monday if you children are all well. love to all Mother. And it was addressed simply to: Carles J. Pierce, Appleton City Mo. Must have been a small town.

Ongoing readers know that my current gig at an animal hospital has set me contemplating things that pets ingest that they should not. (Foreign Object Friday anyone?) The favorite by far seems to be dogs eating ear buds (owner might even find out because they are gently pinging in the pooch), one of the worse is marijuana they pick up from discarded roaches on the street (very bad for animals, please dispose of thoughtfully), and while it is hard to choose most exotic might go to a corn cob which sort of startled me. Shoes, underwear and socks are not safe from your large pup, I’m telling you that right now.

*Just for kicks and giggles – this photo from one of my very first posts. Someone named Dally Petit shown in true cat hat splendor.*

However on the cat side, this image reminded me very much of a cat we had as a child, Zipper. I have told of his exploits as the swaggering sort of tabby cock-of-the-walk, feline ringleader in our old neighborhood.

I was quite small when for whatever reason one day Mom had to take Zips to the vet. Evidently she was short of a cat carrier and she enlisted me as well. (Later in life she always made sure she had more than enough to move all the cats if necessary, which it was during hurricane Sandy when she moved at least five.) On this occasion she placed Zipper in a rather picturesque antique straw picnic basket and somehow secured the top so he couldn’t bound out.

Zipper was not a cat easily cowed and he sent what we called war whoops and howls from the seat next to her in front (this was an old car and I believe the front seat was all one, not broken into separate seats like they are now), and I was plopped in the back, but of course watching this unfold. Well, Zipper was not to be contained and began systematically eating his way through the side of the basket. (In retrospect, whatever ailed him wasn’t that serious I guess.) It wasn’t long before he was thoroughly stuck, head out but unable to go back in. I can assure you he was a good deal more demonic looking than this puss. Mom, for her part, just kept driving.

I have no idea how we got him home, nor was I there when the vet must have cut him out and most likely asked mom what the heck she was thinking. I wish mom was still around to ask her about that part of the story. This card will always remind me of it however.

Sadly I cannot think of a single family photo that incorporates Zipper – he was a will o’ the wisp of a fellow, always on the move. Somehow he never quite got documented to my knowledge. I suspect it had to do with his aversion to being picked up. A true ally cat, he was very selective about who could touch him and how much. He lives now only in my memory and imagination.

A couple of rather wonderful items wandered in the door this week – a good week at the online auctions. This and that needs to be done before I can share them but some rather wonderful things coming up soon so stay tuned.

Posting About Postcards!

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today I am taking a moment to revel in my postcard purchases, but also to celebrate the postcard show itself. To anyone who has been to the current incarnation of this sale this might seem a bit extreme as it is in a small church in the West Village and made up of about nine dealers.

The first reference to this show in my life dates back to college when one of my professors, collage artist Maureen McCabe (her site here), mentioned in passing that she loved to go to a postcard show in Manhattan. She would pick up vintage cards which she would use in her collage boxes. (She mentioned getting vintage paper dolls there which I have never seen!) Frankly, in my naivete I had never heard of or considered such a thing. Antique stores and flea markets were a part of my childhood but shows of such things for sale had never really occurred to me. And postcards no less. It set my brain mulling.

*The art of Maureen McCabe. “Fate and Magic”, 2013, copyright of the artist. That could be a vintage paperdoll right there…*

Fast forward a number of decades and somehow or other it came to my attention that there was a vintage postcard show (the Metropolitan postcard show) at a (then) old and tatty hotel on the far west end of 57th Street. In my memory at the time it was a Howard Johnson, it appears to be called the Watson Hotel now. (Another sliver of memory is that in my 20’s my then boyfriend, Kevin, and I would get day passes just for swimming pool access in hotels in Manhattan in the hottest of summer. This was one of those somewhat cheesy hotels.)

Who would have thought a room with nothing but postcards for sale would be of so much interest? In those years there was probably twice as many dealers and maybe even some ephemera that was beyond postcards. (How big was it when Maureen went?) If memory serves there were a few people of some note signing or roaming the space. I bought fewer cards and spent most of my time and money at a high flying dealer table groaning with Louis Wain cards.

Sadly, with Covid like some many things it shutdown and although I was on their mailing list it seemed to be a number of years before I caught up with them again. Now I find them in the West Village and reduced in size.

Oddly, for me it is perhaps a bit more manageable and I seem to come away with increasingly large scores and yesterday proves the point. It was a miserably rainy day which may have depressed attendance although business seemed reasonably brisk to me. Kim was with me and settled into a pile of photos of early actors and actresses and even made a few purchases and you will probably see those over time too.

*View while digging through a box labeled “Cat”.*

Today’s card was purchased by me early in the show as I made my way through each dealer; it is Mainzer at his best. I have written about Mainzer before (which can be read here and here) who is sort of the later heir to the Louis Wain throne. Mainzer, as a card producer, picks up that ball in 1938 and runs with it, arguably until at least 2005 when taking the reprints of the cards into consideration. Prior to 1955 the production address was 118 East 28th Street here in New York. (On a whim I did a Google Search on the address and it is worth a look, the Kaime Arcade building with a very interesting facade.) After 1955 it is just noted as Long Island City and that is what is printed on this card. Eugen Hartung was the artist.

While mama cat, dressed for a day of shopping with stockinged legs, heels, hat, gloves and fur trimmed coat, chooses between two postcards, her offspring are tearing the place apart – including I might add, her poodle on a leash! In case you are wondering, yes, each of the postcards has a tiny cat drawing on it. (The other prints on the walls appear to be flowers however.) Allow me to note some oddities about the store. It seems to stock not only postcards, prints and fancy wrap boxes, but oddly globes adorn the shelf too. Cut off at the top seem to be some written labels I cannot quite make out and appear to be written in Hartung’s native Swiss German.

*Another view of inside the church where the Metropolitan Postcard show now resides several times a year.*

The well appointed shopkeepers are both in a uniform dress with matching necklaces. While the one with glasses focuses on Mrs. Cat, the other tries to contend with the kits. She has come running with a pen in hand, clearly interrupted in her clerical duties. The kittens, two boys and a girl, are well turned out but unlike mom and the salespeople do not wear shoes – bare paws all the better to climb with. Each magically has their tail come out from their clothing – including the little girls whose pantaloons we see. Mom’s tail, and that of the saleslady, appear from under their overclothes. (I’m always curious about how tails are worked into anthropomorphic cats.)

Several kinds of cat are represented for variety – Mrs. Cat is a tabby, the boys a tabby and a tuxie, little girls is a marmalade. The saleswomen are marmalade and lastly an odd mix like maybe she has some Siamese in her. One final curi-oddity is that the pooch, having opened the cabinet below, has released two large mice. No one, even the dog, is paying any attention to their escape. A pleasant mayhem is enjoyed by all.

*Back of card – how did it find its way back to the US I wonder.*

Someone has penned card b at the bottom right. An addition mystery about this card is the back which shows that this was evidently mailed to Japan from an indeterminate place in 1976 and has, obviously, made its way back to the United States to ultimately be sold to me. It says in a neat childish scrawl, Dear Jacob, the school is very good and close. all the children are kind to me. I am learning and getting better. I will see you in camp. Nathan. It was sent to: Jacob G. Cohen, 1-32-28 Ebisu-nishi, Shibuya-Ku, Tokyo, 150 Japan. (And for your information, a postcard to Japan in 1976 cost twenty-one cents.)

Lastly (because I have clearly droned on a bit) may I just say that curiously this store reminds me very much of one I used to go to in New Jersey, near the house we now have. I cannot remember the name but was a true old fashioned stationary store and carried not only cards and assorted writing materials, but the more esoteric things a stationary store carried before the internet, such as form contracts like leases, which is what my mother used to go there for. It was long and narrow with windows all along one side. There were similar blond cabinets and perhaps more of a dusty business-like feel but something about this card nags at my brain with that memory. It is sadly now a Dunkin’ Donuts, just a few feet from the post office and grocery store we walk to frequently.

So there you have it – the postcard show and our first edition of the acquisitions.

Rare Gem

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today I am veering off my cat course to write about a recent jewelry purchase. October, the witchy month of fall, is a perfect time to write about opals as it is the birthstone for those born this month. I must be an October baby at heart because I never seem to get enough of them.

I write today with some trepidation because I know I will not be able to photograph these gems properly to give you a sense of the glorious fire and snapping color they sport when you see them in person and moving in the light. In fact, when I bought the necklace above on an auction site recently, I was taking a bit of a chance as their photos were lousy too. I admit up front that none of these photos do the beauty of these glittering changeable gems any justice.

Pictorama readers may remember that I wrote about my love of opals quite extensively in posts that can be found here and here. Two opal rings were given to me as gifts, but I am not sure I can easily remember which was the first opal I purchased, although there are two necklaces I bought from my friend and jeweler (@murielchastanet_finejewelry) on the west coast many years ago. One is of opals from New Zealand and the other is made up of flat Ethiopian opals.

*New Zealand opals cut in slices! This was the first necklace I purchased and I have never seen one like it since. This came to me via Muriel Chastanet’s store in Los Angeles.*

The necklace I just purchased is the sibling to that one – in blues instead of oranges but I believe they are Ethiopian opals. Because I owned that one I recognized this one right away and took a closer look. They looked interesting however there was no way I would pay nearly as much from an online auction as I had paid to a trusted jeweler. I can say that these could easily look like a meh string of overpriced beads.

This necklace is the second opal I have bought from this auction site (I purchased a ring, shown below, more or less uncontested over the summer) and I think I keep looking because frankly opals don’t seem to sell well for them. Unlike strands of pearls and jewelry from contemporary designers opals, luckily for me, do not seem to be popular.

*The yellow/orange beads came from the wonderful Muriel Chastanet establishment. I have tried to show them together although not a great pic!*

So I gather that the premise of the auction house, called Everything but the House, is to essentially clean out houses and estates and sell every last thing of value via live auction on their site. A league of experts in different areas descend on you and voila – they put it all online and sell it. They had (have?) a television show devoted to it I saw a few years ago. I’m always curious what will turn up in such random slices of life and collections. However it never occurred to me to look at the auctions until good ole Instagram marketed it to me.

Yes, while other people are fretting about politics on social media, I am just spending money like a drunken sailor. It started during the pandemic and has burgeoned over time. Before that I largely confined myself to eBay and a few well known toy auctions. Not now – I’m making deals for things I spot in photos, have all sorts of obscure auctions on my calendar and the folks at Live Auctioneers totally have me in their clutches, emailing me reams of images daily they think I should see. (I seem to largely get outbid on that site as I am rarely there for the finish and true to their name a lot of action seems to happen in the final minutes.)

*The other ring I bought from this auction house, shown in an antique ring box from my collection.*

In the end I was not the only bidder on the necklace but I got it for very little. I did something I almost never do. When I saw an outbid email I went back and put another small increment on and won it.

My father’s mother went to auctions all the time and furnished her house and then some with her purchases. (For my dad it was estate auctions but more about that another time.) In her day those were of course in person and she would come into Manhattan from Westchester for them. She always said to set your limit and do not allow yourself to get chased above it. I’m sure she’d forgive me on this occasion however. (You can read more about Gertie, aka Tootsie, Butler here. I dearly wish I could have one afternoon as an adult talking to her about the auctions she went to!)

*My orange “circus” beads in their original box.*

Anyway, long story short I won the necklace and it arrived via Fedex the other day. Even at the price I paid (a true small fraction of what I paid for my other one) I was somewhat on pins and needles to see it. Oh man, I was not disappointed. It was sent unromantically but effectively wrapped in a bit of bubble wrap which I quickly sliced open.

I could see the changing color and fire in the stones immediately. Unlike my other necklace these are each faceted, unlike my other ones where are each smooth. The clasp and stringing is perhaps a bit inferior, although they still lay nicely on my neck where they have largely resided since I got them. It seems no matter what I wear they pick up the color and shoot it back differently! On the first day I wore a green top and it took on a slightly green blue hue, red makes them more blue as does black.

I always call my other strand my circus beads (oh to go to that carnival!) and now I have two. Lucky girl! I have not yet figured out if I can wear them together but I find them incredibly cheerful and intend to wear them often.

Everything’s Swell!

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Post: It’s impossible for me to see this card without hearing a certain sort of cartoon cat voice from my childhood – vaguely sarcastic, probably based on a motion picture idea of what a citified gangster sounded like. His friend and sidekick would reply, Yeah, right boss!

This is among the last of the cards I bought at the big postcard show over the summer. (Never fear, there’s another show coming in early October.) This card looks like it could have been drawn by one of those cartoon animators as a side gig. It has a pro feeling to it. The cat on the fence with the big orange sun setting – a glowing sunset behind the fence we realize when we really look. We get a peek at a yellow field and a house behind. It is as if the world is very beautiful glowing yellow and civilized just on the other side of the fence from where these three cats gather.

The two males on the fence seem to be tuning up for a night of caterwauling, while the girl cat belongs to someone who has place a bow around her neck. I guess she matriculates through both worlds. There is a garbage can which has overflowed – I guess that can be investigated and raided later if the boys need a snack.

*Blackie and Cookie on the bed recently. They have only just reconciled with each other upon our return to the NYC apartment.*

Not surprisingly it has me in mind of what we called alley cats when I was a kid and which occurs to me right now to be a term you don’t really hear any longer. (Do we no longer have alleys? Or are cats no longer their denizens?) Instead we talk about strays and feral cats – terms people seem to use interchangeably which arguably are not. Domestic cats that have been abandoned are now strays but they are not feral.

I have written about our first stray found when I was a small child, Zipper. (I wrote about him and other tabbies I have known in a post here. Zipper’s interest in our tropical fish can be found here.) He was a classic alley cat, a tabby with a broken tail where the tip was always at an angle. Mom rescued him outside the laundry one day (this was before we had our own washer and dryer – yes, we’re talking quite a long time ago) where some boys were abusing him.

Zipper was super scrappy though and grew into a beautiful cat. I suspect in retrospect that our rather prim but gentle domestic cat Snoopy was probably utterly shocked by him. He kept his streetwise wits about him and became a ringleader of the neighborhood cats of the time. (Our cats were of the indoor/outdoor variety at the time.) Zips would round up his buddies and make raids on an eel box kept for bait up the street. What pussycat parties those appeared to be! Puking for days after and a need to hose down the garage. These two on the card would have happily attended and then gotten into a few fights.

*Mr. Miltie, our old, old timer.* *A long ago rescue from Newark.*

Spending time outside our cats would get into scraps and occasionally come home with a gaping wound which would eventually abscess and require a trip to the vet. Once I remember my mother couldn’t find a cat carrier and stuffed Zipper into a picnic basket which he promptly chewed right through – head sticking out and therefore somewhat stuck, on our the way there.

All of this was brought back to me by a snippet on Instagram this morning about a British woman and her son finding a cat in the backyard and enticing him inside over a period of a couple of years. Reminds me of our Hobo in New Jersey who we never were able to get inside and who disappeared last year. They call him Boysie, another tabby, and it was a bad wound that finally made them urge him inside and to the vet.

*Gus, on the bed. He came to the backdoor in NJ one winter. He can’t decide if he wants to be petted all the time or is afraid to at all.*

Now we have dedicated people doing TNR (trap, neuter and release) of cat colonies which have mercifully cut down their numbers. Strays with docked ears show this has been done and our Stormy bears that evidence. Here in Manhattan strays are much less common than they once were even in my lifetime. Still, Stormy and Gus both came to the backyard at Mom’s and the other three were otherwise rescued, Beau and Miltie from Newark and Peaches from a basement in Long Branch. We know that shelters are full to overflowing and I am told that in the spring a never ending parade of kittens were dropped at our doors at work despite our not even being a shelter.

Recently an older friend lost her sister unexpectedly and the sister had just adopted a stray. I was very tempted to invite her to join the tribe although eight might truly be the tipping of that scale.

Peaches. I actually touched her for the first time recently. She was asleep on a chair and did not appreciate it. Peaches will generally only let me get within a foot or two of her. Still, she seems very happy. Stretches and rolls around. Just a no-touch kinda girl.

I think of our cat companions and how very special they are. Cookie is asleep atop a Chewy box surveying her kingdom as I write and Blackie is wondering if he looks longingly enough I will give him a Churu treat. (I am the soft touch for these and secretly am always trying to put a bit more weight on Blackie. He is a willing participant.) It makes me sad to think of those kitties that could have happy lives in homes but don’t get the chance. Here’s to finding them all their very best homes.