Kitten with Fruit

Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today is a (somewhat) rare Pictorama painting post. Mostly these seem to be summer New Jersey posts as this is the home with enough wall space for paintings. Some of you may remember my pig painting purchase post from last summer (post can be found here), although cats are more typical and prior posts of some of those acquisitions can be found here and here.

Having said that, this one was acquired from a seller in Britain (@oldstockantiques, his website can be found here), via Instagram and has sat, still in the shipping wrapping in the New York apartment for several month until it could come out here. As a result, when I unpacked it I felt a bit like I was seeing it for the first time all over again. (Good thing my taste is consistent!) There are actually others still to come (largely but not all cats by far), but we start here today with this one which is my favorite.

I don’t know if you can see it from the photo but this painting is old and the surface is a bit reptilian in places as the top layer has crazed and crawled over time. I would guess that this top layer is actually a glaze and there might have been a moment when removing it and replacing it made sense but I think that day has passed and it doesn’t really impact the enjoyment of looking at it. The frame, which I like very much, came with the painting and from the back I would say they have been together for a good long time.

As you can see from the back, this painting was done on an old form of prepared board (Academy Boards prepared for oil painters it says) and sold by Geo. Rowney & Co. 18 Rathbone Place, London. I believe I have purchased both Rowney pastels and oil paints in my life. The nails holding it in are new but I think that is gratis the seller, along with the bit of string and hooks to hang it. It appears not to be signed, front or back although I won’t say there wasn’t something that is now obscured by the crawling surface.

To start, there is something about the pupil dilated wide-eyed look of this kitten that draws me in – I always think that it is as if he truly was asked to pose amongst this wild assortment of fruit and flowers and is wondering what the heck is going on. The cat is well done although we really only see his vaguely peevish head (note ear askew too) and sort of a nod to the rest of him – there is a bit of paw where the crazing is bad on the right side. A few trumpet lilies are at the top and wandering down to these somewhat oversize peaches, an oddly too small avocado (with a giant pit) and some grapes that look a bit like they are of the glass rather than the food variety.

Kitty is of course a tabby, pink nosed and bewhiskered. I would say the article was a better cat and flower painter than a fruit one. There is a moody background too – a sort of sunset horizon and a darkening cloudy sky – also a victim of the surface to some degree. I would say a careful look suggests that there are bits of blue sky among the dark clouds.

It may sound funny to say since I am far from being a kid, but I have only recently given myself license to buy paintings. I mean, I have made paintings, sculpture, prints and certainly photos myself, however the act of purchasing paintings always seemed like something only grown ups like my parents did. I have bought art on paper (in large quantities as you know) but never paintings. It took inheriting a house along with some paintings to prompt thinking about it as an option.

In my mind purchasing paintings was always something my father did. From the earliest time I can remember Dad (almost always him and only occasionally Mom) brought paintings home. He was a particular sucker for a seascape (future post on that), but also an eye for landscapes – never figures. Dad had a good eye. I wouldn’t say we have the same eye but nonetheless, the paintings he purchased are good ones and I have them up in the house now. It is nice to find an avenue of collecting like this so late in the game and it will be interesting to see what I can come up with.

Fish Daily

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: A quick post as we head to the Jersey shore later this morning. I purchased this from a vendor who had it in a pile of Monmouth County postcards and I purchased a few. It was mailed to and from locally, so it seems like a fair assumption although there is nothing identifying it really on the front. It has the right feel though – pure Jersey shore. Sadly this card is damaged, folded along the bottom but that did not stop me from paying up a bit for it.

A hand-painted sign advertises Sale and Retail Fish-Daily and we have this group piled together in various stages of beach wear and summer dress – and undress.The fellow in the middle appears to have googles on (I’m thinking driving not swimming) with his swimsuit. He has women, one in a dress and the other possibly in a swimsuit, on the other side. On the far ends, a woman in a pretty flowered dress and hat and on the other side it is hard to see the fellow with the white hat and what I assume is a swim suit.

The back row is four people, a combination of men (hat and even bowtie on one and collared shirts on the others) and all the way in the front a kid in a sort of sailor shirt, looking annoying. I can’t figure out what that little wooden structure is – it looks like the cabin of a boat which maybe it could be if they are actually on a pier.

The big news is a really careful look reveals that they are actually all perched on and around an absolutely enormous fish! It took a long time looking at this card before I realized that there is a huge fish tail hanging out the bottom. The kid in the sailor shirt is holding out a fin and below the man in the white hat is the gaping mouth.

*Back of the card. No room wherever they were staying!*

A tiny bit of the ocean can be seen in the upper right, a wooden shack near that and two cars help date the period of the picture. However, this card was mailed and therefore we have a postal cancellation. This card was mailed from Farmingdale, NJ on August 28 1930 at 5 PM. It was mailed to, Harold & Floyd Woolly, Box #1, Toms River, N.J. It says, We set up our own camp. The didn’t have room to hold us all so they scoured the country and got us cots & tents and gave us the dryest, finest place of all under the Elms. I have a little private tent of my own up here. Adolph. No mention of the big fish!

This photo scratches at the back of my brain for looking like family photos from the same period and place. I think it is going up on a wall in the house this summer, returning more or less to its place of origin for a few more decades of Jersey summers to come. More next week from the other side!

Jersey Summers

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: I bought this clutch of postcards for a few dollars at the recent postcard extravaganza. They all depict the early days of the shore area where I grew up and now have my mom’s house. Like most areas it has largely been built up and built over, but some of the buildings remain or did during my childhood. All of these postcards appear to be from approximately the same period. Only the one from Rumson at the bottom was mailed and that is dated 1910.

If I had my way we would have spent a lot more time in Asbury Park when I was a kid. It was on hard times in the ’60’s and early 70’s and generally we migrated to things north of us rather than south of us in Monmouth County. This pier, as above, remained and even back then I was fascinated by it. It was somewhat derelict although still in use. There was a carousel in another building that I never got to ride. To my knowledge that remains – it was used in the recent Bruce Springsteen bio pic (which for a Jersey girl like myself was a wonderful compendium of places I grew up hanging out at) so I assume it is in reasonable repair.

The boardwalk is in all its glory here with women in long white cotton dresses of a turn of the century or early ‘teens summer. Parasols and hats abound. The amusements are largely hidden although there is a place for your photo to be taken and where film is sold. (Sadly absolutely no evidence that you could have your photo taken with a giant Felix doll. It just doesn’t seem to have been a thing in the US.)

The North End Hotel is the large building in front of us and below it is identified as Boardwalk and North End Hotel. Asbury Park, N.J. North End Hotel or not, I’m pretty sure the lower pier is what goes out toward the water, the boardwalk above and the sand leading to the water to our right below. I assume some of the long building was bath house space where you could rent a locker for the day, change and leave your things. Although the pier in Long Branch existed into my young adulthood (it was eventually consumed by a fire), it is the only one of the long piers into the water I remember – although maybe Asbury did or does still have one. I am scheming to get there for an ephemera sale this summer if possible and to spend the day checking it out.

*Boardwalk at New Point Comfort Beach, Keansburg, NJ. Fronting the three largest hotels.*

Keansburg was north of us, however I was (sadly) never taken to the beachside amusement pier there. It too still exists in some form. (There used to be ads for it on local television – Keansburg Amusement Park.) I don’t think any of these beachside hotels still exist however. To my knowledge only the tinier waterside homes still stand in that area. I have to admit I have never been on their boardwalk, although I spent much time in neighboring Highlands and even Matawan where my sister lived for several years.

This is what the towns of Long Branch and Sea Bright would have also looked like, the shore dotted with large hotels and rooming houses on the water which largely no longer exist. The trip down Ocean Avenue between Sea Bright and Monmouth Beach and then to Long Branch is still lined with some of the old single-family mansions overlooking the ocean and somehow surviving both tides and progress, mixed with new construction and the occasional beach club.

Until just a few years ago, the highway referred to in this photo of a swath of Atlantic Highlands would have been the very same one which people routinely walked over in order to go to and from Sandy Hook state park and connecting to Sea Bright. A new much higher and larger highway was installed to much construction mess, expense and fanfare. I guess you can still walk (and bike) across the new one, but it is vastly larger for more cars and most importantly, more boats below it. (It is no longer a drawbridge.)

*Scene from the scenic highway highest point on the Atlantic Coast Highlands, N.J.*

While likely more crammed and with contemporary stores and some more modern homes, my guess is that this view has remained somewhat the same with small cottages dotting the shore. This would have the Shrewsbury River just in view to the left with the bay to the ocean (and New York City in the distance) behind the viewer. The ocean is just on the other side of the tiny spit of land that is Sandy Hook and Sea Bright and the photographer, standing on the highway, could easily have seen all these things by turning around.

There was a time when this was a major stop on passenger pleasure cruises heading south and I assume for day trippers, even as it is by ferry in the summer today. (I could take the ferry today but beach traffic will snare on the weekend so instead I will take the train which will leave me closer to the house.) One of my ancient novels had a stop there on a cruise which I enjoyed finding immensely.

Finally, I get to my hometown of Rumson. There was a time when I knew the length of Rumson Road like the back of my hand from years of being a passenger traveling up and down it. A major artery running not just through the town but connecting the beach communities with the rest of the area, it is fairly long and famously heavily trafficked. (The Sea Bright bridge at one end was also a drawbridge and traffic during the summer would back up for miles for boat traffic. That bridge has also been replaced recently, leaving only the Rumson bridge in a state of sad decay and planned replacement.) Having said that I am puzzled by this view. While small water tributaries create a number of manmade and natural ponds and streams throughout the area, I am stumped by one of this size. (I wrote about a photo of a small pond near my house in the town of Fair Haven here.)

*Glimpse of Rumson Road Lake on the Rumson Road, N.J.*

I am wondering if this was ultimately filled in to make the golf course or country club. I will ask some of the folks who have lived there longer than I have. For all of that I like this card because it captures the feel of Rumson and Rumson Road. In the fall it is the most beautiful drive lined with old trees, leaves turned. It has always been a sort of millionaires’ row of mansions, old and new, despite being a few blocks in from the river which you would think would be more prime real estate. Perhaps the flooding discouraged the largest homes perching there and I grew up on an inlet of the river, a block off this road. If I calculate correctly though I lived much further east, where Rumson Road begins at the Sea Bright bridge. This would be on the western part as you head into the town of Little Silver, my current home in Fair Haven where these three towns connect.

As noted above, this card was mailed. On the back it says (in one run-on sentence), suppose you have been after chestnuts before this wish I was there to go along Harold. It was mailed to Miss Mary Crawford, Pine Bush, Orange Co, NY. It was mailed from Sea Bright, NJ on October 13, 1910. (Until a few years ago the post office in Sea Bright would have been this one. Sadly a larger and more modern building replaced it too.)

As I head out today I am tucking these in my bag to take with me. I will round up some frames for them and put them up at the house where both local images, beaches and piers in general and wider New Jersey images rule. (Some of those posts can be seen here and here – I have a passion for panorama photos but they are hard to document!) Keep an eye on Instagram for some garden pics. My project for the weekend is to acquire and plant some tomatoes.

Schimdt’s White and Gold Band

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: With Memorial Day behind us, and despite the fall-like weather this Saturday as I write, I thought I would pull out this postcard purchase. It both celebrates the summer season ahead and the town where my mother grew up, Long Branch, New Jersey. I snatched it up at a sale recently and will take it to the house in New Jersey where, among the images of cats, are a number of early local Jersey shore photos and postcards, an homage to my family’s history in the area and my own.

I find that Max Schmidt (1850-1951) was a violinist who immigrated to the United States in 1886 from Germany. He lived and worked primarily in New York City, even reportedly with the Met Opera at times, so this summer gig for his 24-piece orchestra was a short hop away and his orchestra enjoying some limited fame of the time.

Here is the Band White and Gold in all their 1909 glory on today’s card. Although it is somewhat standard of all the musicians with their instruments in hand, there are a few interesting elements. I like that the trumpets all have flags (pennants?) advertising the band hanging from them – three tubas, two more tuba-like things and so many drums! Behind the musicians is a sign that says Band White and Gold and a sort of gong hanging below it. At the bottom (a bit hard to read) it declares, Max Schmidt Celebrated Band White & Gold Ocean Park, Long Branch, NJ.

They appear here to be on a stage set of some kind and a careful look to the back reveals a painted column and some foliage. As best I can tell the area around them on the outside of the stage looks like a cave entrance. Most intriguing however are the three men, just behind the fellow I assume is Max himself (small child seated on the floor next to him), and they appear to stand behind wood stumps with anvils, hammers in their hands. I assume this is part of the opera music they were known to play. Tucked away, all the way on the left side and hard to see, is a harp.

This card was mailed on August 23, 1909 from Long Branch. It only says, Love from, Minnie. It was mailed to, Miss Amelia Freuzel, Sayreville, N.J. The card, produce by The Rotograph Co. NY, City was printed in Germany.

Meanwhile, this was the heyday of the band concert and his sported striking white and gold uniforms. They were hired in the summer of 1909 to play outdoor concerts in Ocean Park. (If I understand it, Ocean Park was subsumed by what is now known as Seven President’s Park – if wrong Jersey folks let me know.) Their repertoire would have been popular band music, evidently combined with excerpts from operas. At the time Long Branch was the summer haven for the very wealthy and even Presidents. (The most outstanding remaining example is Wilson’s summer home which now forms the core of what became Monmouth University’s campus. I understand that there is a building which will house Bruce Springsteen’s papers quite nearby.)

The fortunes of the town, like many, have waxed and waned over the decades. Despite my grandmother living in a residential area on the outskirts in the house my mom grew up in (I wrote about that house in a previous post here), the downtown area and even the waterfront was largely down at the heels during my childhood. The shopping district was usurped by an enormous mall (which in turn was ultimately killed by online shopping and an outdoor shopping center) and only a few essential stores hung on. There was a Foodtown supermarket by the train station (which I shopped in a few times when my sister was in the hospital across the street), a paint store called Siperstein’s, which mom frequented. (A quick look online and it appears to still be there, selling wallpaper and blinds now as well. It may be a chain.)

*Another from the internet not in my collection.*

There was also a library which for some reason I found more interesting than both the tiny one in Rumson (the Oceanic Library – I must write about it one day), and the much larger and more modern one known as the Monmouth County Library. (It is out by Trader Joe’s so I have seen it and it has been expanded further since my childhood.) We didn’t go to the library in Long Branch often as it was a bit more out of the way, but we’d stop in occasionally and there was just something especially warm and inviting about the children’s section. I wish I could remember what books I found there, I was already reading chapter books, but it would likely be a false memory. I want to say the later Alcott children’s books like Jo’s Boys. Below is what the library would have looked like in my childhood (albeit more beat up) although it is a much more contemporary and entirely different building today.

*Undated photo of the Long Branch public library via the internet.*

In addition, there was another smaller commercial area closer to my grandmother, where my great-grandparents once had their bar and restaurant. (I wrote about the blue willow ware plates – the blue plate special plates – which I inherited and use. The post is here.) My vivid memories of that area from childhood were a Dunkin’ Donuts we frequented and the rarified early McDonalds. My parent’s accountant was also there – may still be for all I know but I doubt it. (Sadly, later in life, it is also where the funeral home the family used is and that is what I associate with it now.) There was a laundromat (strange word now that I look at it) nearby we sometimes used in the years before getting a washing machine although there was one closer to home, in Sea Bright, that I remember best. Mom may have been doing laundry for my grandmother.

And so the march to summer at the shore begins again today, even if I am drinking hot coffee and eyeing a sweater for my trip downtown in a bit. However, I’m sure there will be more shore and vacation posts coming soon.

Easter Egg

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: This year it is a foggy, rainy Easter morning here in New York City. Hardly the harbinger of spring that you want it to be, however I am celebrating with this somewhat whacky card. I bought many months ago at the postcard sale and I bought it for the sheer, delightful, oddness of it.

*Just noting that I have an odd fondness for these chocolate Easter eggs from childhood and still grab one or two annually.*

The card is heavily embossed with thick looking gold highlights. A careful look tells that it appears to take place in a dark forest, if you peer behind the large egg house the trees almost bend around it. Easter Greetings is engraved with gold highlights, nestled among the trees. Meanwhile, a pretty little decorative, curtained window on the second floor of this egg house reveals a rooster portrayed in dignified profile. Below him is a sweet little green door complete with a mail slot and a red portico (you want to get into the house in the rain comfortably, after all), and even a little pull chain for a doorbell. There are a few front steps to complete the image.

Below, running wildly are two little chicks – I say little although somehow they are much larger than the rooster – who I grant you is at a bit of a distance up in his window, but still! They are in a race with each other on a grassy turf; the light one has a worm the one with brown feathers wants to share. Is there a cryptic and symbolic meaning in this? The artist was very conscious of shadow, bottom of the egg, under the chicks, under even the tiny window ledge, giving the card a three dimensional appeal.

The border of the card is a colorful riot of flowers, leaves and (pink!) eggs on a gold background. The eggs are dispersed in odd groupings of single, three and two, again not sure if there is some symbolism I am missing.

Like many lately, I find that this card was addressed on the back but never stamped and postmarked so therefore not mailed and no date for us. I show the back above, the sloping child’s hand going off the card and barely crams in the address. It appears to read, Miss Eleanor Bigwood, 928 Helamont Avenue, Schenectady, NY. Upside down on the other half, in the same hand but very hard to read is, Myra and Victor – presumably the senders. I will assume that this precious missive was ultimately put directly in Miss Bigwood’s hands.

With today’s weather we can only cheer ourselves with the old adage, April showers bring May flowers. And it is true! The pansies, tulips, magnolias and cherry trees are in bloom after a long winter’s nap. New York City is shaking off its long-held mantle of winter at last this year and it is all we can do from burying our heads in the flower filled tree wells lining the blocks here.

Meanwhile, we had a gorgeous spring day yesterday. Kim and I endeavored to undertake his first long walk since his surgery, about a mile round trip to Orwashers bakery and back. This weekly walk to get a nice loaf of bread for the week has become somewhat of a ritual and during the hospital stay and the MoCCA convention last weekend, it has been interrupted. However, the walk was much longer than anything he has done since the surgery, although still using a walker now and for the coming month. He did it like a champ though which makes us feel he is well on the way on the, albeit long, road of recovery from his back surgery.

*Homemade matzoh making a holiday appearance at Orwashers this weekend.*

Although Orwasher’s was all sold out of their as advertised, yummy-looking hot cross buns when we got there (oh my!) a small amount of homemade matzohs were still available. Although not our mission for the day (we stuck to our loaf of sourdough and a bonus olive stick), it was a reminder of the dual holidays, Passover and Easter, which signify this season of renewal and regeneration.

Pictorama readers may remember that with a Jewish father and a mother who was raised in a Catholic/Episcopalian household, I grew up recognizing both holidays, admittedly in a secular and food related way. I can remember Easter weekends with matzoh brie (my mom had mastered that) followed by an Easter Sunday family brunch at my maternal grandmother’s of ham and homemade Easter bread. We dyed Easter eggs but also, at least roughly, knew the rituals of a Passover seder. It all means the return of spring to me now – tied to the blooming of the magnolia in my front yard in New Jersey and streets filled with masses of blooming cherry trees.

A day or so in the ER and even a short stay in the hospital will always remind you of your blessings – other people’s problems are indeed frequently worse than your own, and we have seen that recently. For now, I remain grateful to say spring is arriving, Kim’s recovery and walking improving apace, and there are many signs for a significant growth and blooming in the next part of this year.

Family Pics

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: A short post today and an unusual one as I don’t think I very often feature photos of my own childhood. However these two have been hovering on my desk for a bit and I have decided to share them. Admittedly it is a bit indulgent; they are largely photos only a family member could love, and not necessarily aesthetically special.

The black and white photo is my mom and dad and sister Loren. I am the babe in arms and according to the date on this, November 1964, I am 9 months old. It was taken in front of my maternal grandmother’s home, with the camera facing away from the house. (I wrote a long early post about my grandmother’s house and it is here.) My apologies to my brother Edward but these were take several years before he was born.

It is a bit rare really to have all of us in a photo as my father, the camera man, usually took the photo. He is wearing a trench coat (I still have one of his Burberry trench coats – they were a constand over the years like his very long Eddie Bauer down coats in the winter.) Dad is not wearing a hat which is very unusual. It would have been a wool cap.

Mom seems to be wearing a long trench coat as well and this was unusual – Dad must have bought it for her. I can’t really see her hair in this but it would have been some kind of longish at that time. Loren is two here, her life long curly hair already in evidence – she’d fight that through her teen years but I, of the straight hair, always liked it. I like this little double breasted plaid coat she is sporting.

Mom holds a chubby me in a fluffy top and be-pom pommed hat. I like this long fall shadow outlining use to the left. No idea who took this picture but I would make a guess it may have been my mother’s brother and this is probably Thanksgiving. I do not believe that wildly finned, white car behind us is ours. I think we may have been sporting a woody station wagon in the day – my family never went in for sporty cars.

My sister Loren on the left and me in a profusion of posies on the right. I don’t think these dresses inhibited some wild running around as soon as a few minutes after this – Loren already looks like she is leaping off!

The other photo (they were sort of stuffed together in a bit of plastic when I found them) is early color and is Easter Sunday 1966, two years later. My sister, in the pink, and I are clad in unlikely dresses for the holiday. I suspect they were gifts from my grandmother – I almost wonder if she made them but probably not. Our normal attire ran to the indestructible but were were clearly meant to be memorialized on this occasion as properly dressed little girls.

We would have had an Easter egg hunt either out in the yard or, if the weather didn’t cooperate, in the house. The ones in the yard, which I believe were courtesy of my uncle, are glorious in my memory. My (Jewish) father always had Easter baskets for us (usually Russell Stover ones) which were also wonderful. (I can remember a fascination with a soft, lifelike, tiny toy chick someone gave me one year and I was very sad when it got lost in the hustle and bustle of things.)

Loren is looking a bit angelic here although I knew her well enough to say she was probably like she was shot out of a canon two minutes later – and hadn’t even started on a sugar high. These dresses are really wearing us! The fabric comes back as unforgiving even now as I look at it. Oh the bows and flowers! I feel like my hair is a bit of a babu mullet here.

We are seated on a couch that lives in memory as an itchy green sort of flocked fabric. That small bit of flowered wallpaper brings back memories of my grandmother’s living room – and the blinds on the windows behind us were often closed, probably so the furniture wouldn’t fade. It was therefore usually a somewhat dark but not unpleasant room which I spent many hours happily in. A television ultimately found its way into that room in a giant wooden console that included a very fancy radio and record player.

The family would have headed into the kitchen where we would sit around an expanded table (or if the guest list was really big it would have reached through the living room) and as it was Easter there would have been a wonderful cakey homemade bread, fried dough (these were Italians doing this cooking!), ham, sausage and depending maybe my grandmother’s rather incredible meatballs. (I didn’t become a vegetarian for many years yet to come. I have attempted to make a fakemeat version of her meatballs!)

At that time Loren and I were the very first grandchildren of our generation – it would proliferate with the addition of my brother and several cousins over time. Sadly now several of those, including my sister, died very young and are already no longer with us. However, here we are, at the beginning of it all – a twinkle in everyone’s eye for the spring holiday.

Dear Louise

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Here at Pictorama we’re in lucky black cat territory today. When I reflect on the difference between the British who honor their black cats with being lucky and our own culture’s tendency to assign them bad luck, I think I may have been born on the wrong side of that big pond. This is an English published postcard, never used postally so hard to get a date on it. The image is a fairly common one and I would say this postcard could be from any time from the ‘teens to the forties.

Although the phrase on the card, I will meet you in the evening dear Louise, seems to bounce around (I found it on at least one other, albeit mundane, postcard) I cannot find the precise origin of it. However, one can imagine this sharp looking little fella being a popular image on a postcard. Red bow, tongue out, looking over to the side with huge eyes, he is perched atop a brick wall, rooftops and pipes in the distance with a huge yellow moon rising from the mist. I can see it being just the right cheeky card to send to your loved one for an assignation of sorts.

I have written about the roots of British black cat good fortune before. On the maritime side, they believed that a black cat on board a boat was good luck (perhaps not for the cat although maybe a mousie and rat filled paradise of sorts), and my favorite tradition of giving a bride a black cat on her wedding day – what a very nice wedding gift that would be!

*Blackie on the bed in NYC in a recent photo.*

As mom to two black cats, Blackie and Beau, I often profess to their particular good nature. I remember that my mother wanted to adopt Beau especially because he was an all black cat and I gather they are less likely to be adopted. There seems to be some truth in that but meanwhile certainly she found herself the most devoted little friend ever. Beauregard would sit on her lap happily for hours if allowed and there is not enough petting in all the world for that cat. He is a great companion.

*Beau possessively on my lap one morning in NJ recently.*

When his weight became too much for her as she grew more frail, he shifted first to next to her and eventually to the chair next to her where he kept persistent watch over her – really of his own accord and understanding. He did not need to be reminded after he first realized it. At times it would be my job to move him to another room – doctor coming etc. and at first it was difficult. As experienced as I am with cats he wasn’t used to being picked up and carried and he is, frankly, an enormous cat. He allowed it and over time he accepted me as one of his spare humans while mom was the unquestionable primary.

With mom gone more than two years now I am the closest thing to her and when I spend time in NJ he claims as much lap time as he can get. His preference is still sitting in my mom’s recliner chair, and I like to think my way of petting, learned at her knee, is somewhat reminiscent of hers.

*Milty, who is actually a small cat, looking like an evil genius in a recent photo.*

At times I have felt bad about not trying to bring Beau to New York with us, but he rules the house and the other cats in New Jersey, and I am not convinced that displacing him would make him happier. It was my mother’s wish that they would all continue to live in the house and I promised to at least try and it has worked for the past few years. Beau, Gus and the two girls (Stormy and Peaches) are quite young cats, only Milty is a senior citizen (of slightly indeterminate age – late teens, early 20’s) and he is quite tenacious. Therefore, the Jersey Five remain intact at the house there.

Stormy

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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

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

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

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

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.