memoir

Lucky in Love with Oswald Rabbit

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: A couple of weeks ago I was meeting a friend for a drink on Madison Avenue after work. She had selected an interesting place which turned out to show me to my table via a sliding bookcase door for a speakeasy feel. However, I was early and she was going to be a bit late so before crossing the street I did a bit of window shopping.

The store on Madison from a few years back. Looks pretty much the same now.

I haven’t been to this stretch of upper Madison in a long time. I made it up more frequently when I worked at the Met, but usually a trip to a museum would have triggered a stroll through, but hasn’t in awhile. There’s a wonderful but overpriced store I tend to stop by, Blue Tree, usually to purchase some greeting cards. It is a mash up of clothes, jewelry, toys and baby gifts among other curios. Occasionally I have bought something other than cards, but as already stated and I cannot emphasize enough, it is expensive. Rumor has it that it is owned by the actress Phoebe Cates.

I snatched this quick nighttime pic of the store window more for reference than anything else – in case he was gone before I could come back.

Anyway, the store was closed but there in the window and much to my surprise, was this rather incredibly resplendent Oswald Rabbit doll. Almost the size of an infant, Oswald was perched among some modish clothing and some other gee gaws, atop on a small bench. The incongruity stopped me in my tracks. The store was closed so I took a quick photo and figured I would attempt to find it online or double back when the store was open.

A NEW Oswald short made by Disney to celebrate his anniversary.

Of course the weekend came and it was another sodden mess like the one before. Undaunted Kim and I traipsed out to Madison Avenue between cloud bursts. It is a very expensive store so I girded my loins before entering – how much could Oswald be? There were a lot of eye ball kicks for the likes of me there – a very nice Minnie Mouse baby blanket that I would love if I could figure out what to do with it. (I thought picnic blanket which is an ongoing need for the park, but it’s white!)

However, I stuck to my mission. Although there was a display of (beautiful) stuffed toys in back, the only Oswald was in the window. I found a salesperson and asked and indeed, he was the only one and had just come into stock and been put in the window. I would like to just take a moment to recognize whoever had the wherewithal to purchase him for their stock – I really can’t imagine that many stores would have purchased him and plunked him in the window. It seems they were rewarded for their ambition, by the likes of collector me coming along.

A beauty shot of Oswald! Pams-Pictorama.com.

This Oswald is made by Steiff in collaboration with Disney and is being sold this year as a 100th birthday tribute to the hard luck rabbit who was hounded into obscurity by legal dispute, shortly after his popular debut. He is about 30% larger than I ideally might have made him actually and practically speaking. His high price tag is somewhat justified by his fine mohair outer layer, just what a good toy should boast. However the days of excelsior stuffing are (sadly) gone so he is stuffed with a weighty synthetic something. He is a nicely made item and when I later found him on their website they emphasized that he is not a toy for children, but a collector’s item for adults. (Huh. Go figure.)

A bit of Oswald history via Wikipedia reveals that the first Oswald cartoon hit theaters in 1927 so not exactly sure where the 100 years comes in. Disney and Ub Iwerks took the idea to Universal Pictures after ending the Alice Comedies and Julius the Cat. Too many cats on the market so they went for a rabbit it is said. Also read that the first cartoon submitted was rejected for subpar production although it was slipped into the releases later.

Ultimately 27 cartoons were made at the Disney studio and the income allowed them to grow their staff to 20 animators, their future now secure. Mickey Mouse was created as a replacement after the rights to Oswald were lost in a switch of studios when Disney realized that Universal was quietly hiring his animators away.

This is the link to a slew of original Oswald cartoons.

Kim whipped out his credit card (he is a very good husband indeed) and Oswald was mine, an early anniversary gift. (If all has gone as planned you are reading this as Kim and I travel to Cold Spring for a day of poking around and foliage viewing in order to celebrate the 23rd year of our nuptials. More rain could delay this celebratory event however.)

Side view of the box. Below is the money shot of the top of the box.

Heavy is a theme because Oswald is a solid citizen of a toy. He stands at about 30 inches in height and weighs considerably more than our cat Blackie. As you can see, he travels in a very decorative box. I hesitated to take the box (small apartment and all of that) and I did consider just having him shipped to New Jersey, but I was worried he’s be exposed to the elements before someone could grab him inside. The box is fun even if I don’t know that I have an eventual place to keep it – since I rarely buy new toys the box question doesn’t come up often. With the weather and all we took him, wrapped copiously if a bit ham handedly, and headed home in sloppy triumph with the next downpour just commencing as we got home.

I have written about Oswald previously and have one beloved tatty one in my collection. That post can be found here. He is in some ways (condition!) the exact opposite but he was acquired for a pittance on eBay while no one was looking one day. I think the new fellow will head to Jersey where he can be among the first notable toys as I open the collecting front there.

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

Kim and I are heading off to Cold Spring shortly to enjoy an anniversary jaunt. More about that later and I hope you enjoyed this very Oswald morning!

Autumn in New Jersey

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: An extra day off last week enabled a nice few days in New Jersey. I was shocked that autumn had overtaken there so fully already. In many ways fall is my favorite season, although I guess spring is special too. Kim and I got married in the fall and in part that was because I thought it would be nice to have something to celebrate in October. (That would actually be today – our 23rd anniversary of marriage! Yay us!) I am one of those people for whom fall is a reenergizing and recharging time, cool air permitting jackets, leaves changing.

Dahlia continues to bravely bloom. The jalapeno pepper continues to produce as well.

This year I find the season a bit tainted with missing my mom and a nagging sense having forgotten something has chased me throughout the post-summer months. A five day return to office at work, combined with the start of the season there, has been an ongoing adjustment complete with disgruntled staff. Meanwhile, I balk at the exponentially greater need for office clothes and figuring that out. We have had record rains which have curtailed my running. A tough start to season. I feel restless and not entirely myself.

Autumn on the deck. There is a hibiscus someone just gave me which I planted while I was there.

The few days in Jersey provided some balm. Although more rain prevented running I did get a bit of an eyeful of the Halloween decorations there. That neighborhood, chock a block with kids, outdoes itself for Halloween and thereby commencing the fall and winter outdoor decoration cycle which I love.

I am not a large scale outdoor holiday decorator (although if I was Halloween would be a bit of a go to I think), but I do like the outside of the house to look nice and seasonal. This involved a trip to the local farmer’s market “Pumpkin Patch” where I paid too much money for an especially warty, green and orange number which I paired with a traditional orange and an interesting green one. I added a mum and felt content.

Purple mum didn’t make it into the photo but am happy with the seasonal aspect of the front steps.

In the backyard and on the porch the lettuces are in their glory and some excellent fresh salad was made. (I brought some back for Kim so the salads continue!) I managed to harvest a beefsteak tomato while another dozen were still green on the branches. Weather permitting I will get a late season harvest on my next trip. The cucumbers grew with enthusiasm, but were evidently too late in the season. They have flowered and have tiny cukes but unlikely to come to fruition. (We wondered – will we get gherkins?) Next year I will do better. A random yellow pepper showed up as well.

Lettuces are very happy and producing merrily although the bushy cucumbers are not actually spewing out produce.

To salve the seasonal wound of it being too cold to sit out on the deck I grown to so dearly love, I added a fire pit in the backyard at the end of the summer. It had its inaugural lighting this week. I chose a traditional fire one, although my grill is propane. It is smokey – goodness! But that seems appropriate and I enjoy the smell of the wood. My friend Suzanne and I attempted s’mores, and comical although it was I am not sure I will try it again soon. (Think sticky marshmallow everywhere – even my phone – and chocolate not melting and graham crackers too hard!) I will perhaps stick to hot chocolate with marshmallows drinking by said fire going forward.

The inaugural fire pit launch last week. Gourmet graham crackers to the right – too think for good s’mores.
Fig tree is happily trying to take over the world, and the tomato plant could supply us with a dozen more tomatoes. Not in view is my jasmine plant which wound itself around all sorts of things in an urge to acquire territory which I will have to curtail when taking it inside over the coldest of winter.

The New Jersey cats welcomed me unconditionally and I slept with Beau and Gus draped around me. Gus brought me his favorite stuffed rat and placed it ceremoniously on the bed where I woke to it one night.

Hobo at the end of the summer having a snack. Turns out, not surprisingly, he’s a mighty hunter.

Speaking of rats, Hobo (our outside denizen) brought a gift in the form of a mouse the other morning and was later found munching on a rat. I guess he is looking for a little extra protein these days, but I thought it was considerate that he was thanking us for all his meals even if it was in dead rodent form which needed disposing of.

I woke to Gus, Beau and the rat toy late one night.

I hope to make another trip out there before Thanksgiving and look forward to the morphing of the fall decorations. Meanwhile, tomorrow (hopefully a sunny day) Kim and I are taking off for a day trip to Cold Spring for a somewhat belated anniversary celebration. More to come on that and an in the can post (and a rather special one I think) will appear in your inbox on schedule.

The Pumpkin Patch at Sickles Farm in Little Silver, NJ.

Vacation Days: On the Move

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: I am writing this, at least starting it, on one of my last day’s commuting to work from New Jersey at the tail end of a rather glorious vacation here. Kim, cats and I will make the trek north on Sunday, perhaps when you are reading this, and reinstall ourselves in our tiny Manhattan abode.

It took all these weeks but Blackie discovered the kitchen on our last day here!

I’m not sure what Blackie will make of the move, over time he has adjusted handsomely to his somewhat more expansive New Jersey life and the existence of five other cats – at least somewhat. He has annexed the east end of the house, taking our room, my mom’s old bedroom and three bathrooms as his territory. He has never seen stairs and has not mastered that concept yet so while he has acquired about half of the downstairs, little does he know that there is a cat warren in my office upstairs.

Kim and Cookie.

Cookie has fared less well and has spent her time behind the chair where Kim prefers to work in our bedroom. She has let her displeasure be known in numerous ways, most notable with some disrespect to said chair and Kim’s clothes there overnight. We hope this too will pass.

Tomatoes still ripening on the deck.

Kim seems rested and is back to work on his book while I commute to the city and back each day, reentry into the madness of fall in Manhattan and the kick off of our season at work upon me like a switch has been flipped!

These dahlias have just kept on keeping on.

I have made trips to the New York apartment and even spent the night there. It seems so empty without Kim and the kitties. I told Kim that the apartment is full of ghost cats which spend the night with me there.

Lettuces, cukes and mums for fall.

Starting next week my schedule becomes such that commuting would become very difficult, dinners and evening appointments are starting to dot the calendar. I will be back and forth to Jersey but gone will be the long quiet nights on the deck with the bats and fireflies – and slugs. I discovered slugs at night there.

Jasmine plant which seems happy and blooming.

I am realizing that this is really my first vacation in years, since before the pandemic easily, although the summer of ’19 was not a relaxed one either. (For posts about that summer, the work trip to California, the kitchen renovation and a long business trip to South Africa  you can find them here, here and here.) All the recent years in memory have had me either working around the clock (the pandemic years) or ferrying back and forth to mom and taking care of her.

This summer strung out like glorious pearls and I enjoyed my time with Kim and ALL the cats, my newfound love of gardening and working on the house. I refinished furniture, planted, pruned, cooked and enjoyed long evenings on the deck.

More cucumbers and lettuce.

Saturday night now. The bags are (mostly) packed. Cookie and Blackie are unsuspecting about the trip back to Manhattan tomorrow, but somehow Beau (the other big black cat) knows and he’s very sad and clingy. Today started rainy, a humid sun came out for much of the afternoon before thunderstorms rolled in this evening so it is hard not to feel glum about vacation’s end.

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We’re back in Manhattan. Tough ride in with the thunderstorms and cats howling! They are considering this cosmic shift in the universe from under the bed. Whew!

Pickled Pepper Post

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: We haven’t had a recipe post in a very long time and I guess today’s pepper post falls roughly in that category. Jumping back a little, ongoing readers know that Kim and I have been spending a long summer vacation in New Jersey. (Some of those recent posts can be found here, here and here.)

Recent night in the porch.

Further back, some folks also know that I lived in this house during the first months of this year with my mom during her final illness, managing a consistent group of two caregivers on every shift during the 24 hours. I have spoken about the extraordinary loving care mom received from this group of women and among them was the major-domo Winsome who remains my New Jersey sister and Chief of Staff now after mom’s passing in late April. (Some of those posts are here and here.)

This strawberry plant wants to take over the world!

Part of my summer vacation project has been maintaining and adding to my mom’s beautiful backyard garden. Mom loved the garden and although unable to go outside, she followed its progress from her window perch and worked ongoing with her long-standing gardener.

My additions have largely been of the vegetable and herb nature. Blueberry and strawberry plants (largely enjoyed by the bunnies and chipmonks), a fig tree, an overflowing herb garden. And peppers. Although my lone bell pepper plant produced precisely two peppers, a couple of scotch bonnet plants brought over by a friend and a random jalapeno plant bought from a damaged shelf have produced prodigiously.

Recent small haul…

Aside from a grilled cheese sporting some chopped jalapenos there was no way I could use (or give away) so many hot peppers before they went bad so Winsome offered to show me how to pickle them. We assembled the bits and Saturday morning we got underway. Winsome hails originally from Jamaica so what follows is a somewhat Jamaican influenced version.

Pimentas are very much like black peppercorns.

First Winsome introduced me to a vegetable called a chayote which seemed to be a cross between a turnip and a pear. Under her instruction I peeled it lightly, cut it open and sliced out the seedy center. Carrots, onions (red and white for a variety of color) and of course the peppers were cut in quarter inch strips, not thinner. Peppercorns she called pimientos were used whole but these are similar if not the same as black peppercorns, we pulled about two dozen out.

Chayote, slice out the middle.

Strap on your gloves if you haven’t already! Also I recommend using all glass dishes (I ruined some plastic containers) and a plastic cutting board or disposable cutting surface. Remember that once you start cutting the peppers you need to be careful not to touch your face or eyes and also that the knife and surfaces will have pepper oil on them. I nibbled a raw piece of chayote and realized that I had cut some more of it with the pepper covered knife! Ouch!

My peppers were supplemented with some W gave me!

Combine salt, white vinegar and the peppercorns and heat for about 5-10 minutes, just to dissolve. At the same time boil the jars and lids. Begin layering the carrots, chayote, and onions and then the pepper slices. Make sure you drop some of the peppercorns into the lower layers, begin spooning the vinegar and salt solution in. Fill to the top and add liquid to cover.

I didn’t use garlic but you certainly could. An easier method of saving and using the peppers would be to freeze them and cut bits off as needed. I will likely do that with my next batch so I will report back!

Heat vinegar and sugar with the peppercorns.

What you need:

  • Disposable gloves
  • Chili Peppers
  • Sugar (teaspoon)
  • Salt (half teaspoon)
  • White vinegar (about 1.25 cups to start – you may need more liquid)
  • Chayote
  • Red and white onion
  • Jars
  • Peppercorns or Pimiento peppercorns
  • Jars
Our finished product!

The Fair

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

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

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

Kim was very entertained by the colors of this one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kid Stuff

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jersey Livin’

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

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

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

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

Anya and her double decker cat stroller.

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

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

Historic house in Red Bank turned restaurant.

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

Fig tree awaiting trnasplanting.

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

Local Tiffany’s for those last minute gifts…

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

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

Ferry was crowded last Friday when train went down.

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

I Love Her and She Loves Me

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

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

Back of the card.

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

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

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

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blackie’s carrier earlier today…

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

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

Look very hard for the hidden Cookie!

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

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

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

The deck at lunchtime today. Avocado toast on tap!

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

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

Morphing

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: I am writing this from Livingston, NY where, some readers may remember, I am spending a work weekend with our Summer Jazz Academy which is held over a two week period at on the campus of Bard College each summer. This is my first experience in an Airbnb and it is a very nice one – however I cannot take any credit for selecting it, my colleague did. It is a bit sterile, but utterly professionally appointed and has fulfilled all our needs.

The water lily laden view out the back porch.

The requisite view is a fresh water pond which appears to be somewhat manmade. The water goes virtually all the way up to the backdoor which makes me nervous, having grown up with river flooding. (The view of the deck chairs and floating dock as above is literally also just out our door.) A run yesterday revealed very steep hills – and I like some hills in my run but these put me to the test. Whew! This morning I just devoted myself to the cleaning and organizing of the Airbnb before our 10:00 am check out time.

Along the route of my run – some mighty tough hills here!

Incoming news from New Jersey this AM is that our stray, Hobo, who has been amongst the missing, showed up at long last. We were concerned that perhaps he had met his maker and was roaming with Mom in the cat over-the-rainbow world, but nope. He showed for his three cans of food the other day and has returned at least daily since. Long live Hobo.

In other news I am told we need cat food. With five resident cats there this is hardly unusual, but it is tricky to track what they are eating, preferring and needing if I am not there to see. I think the folks over at Chewy.com must think I now run a cat farm, which in a sense, I do. I carefully check and double check that this order is going to the correct locations – cats in New York eat different food than cats in New Jersey and although all will be mixing and socializing soon, I don’t need a couple of cases of the NJ food in NYC’s tiny apartment.

We avoided rain up here in Tivoli until we were pulling up stakes Sunday night. Rain clouds moving in over the Hudson.

Today I pen a bit in advance because next weekend (when you are reading this) we are committing to moving the contents of a long-employed storage unit (think decades in storage) of Kim’s possessions to NJ. I have been planning for it, but we are anxious about the potential difficulties. These are the contents of Kim’s long ago former apartment in Brooklyn, prior to him bringing the Deitch to Deitch Studio here in Manhattan, many years ago. We are sure to find all sorts of treasure – and trouble.

A colleague put me up at their wonderful cottage in Cold Spring on Sunday night on the way home, to break up the trip. This is their stunning view.

It is a coming together of worlds that although thought out seems a bit awe inspiring to actually executed after such a long time. And it is a serious stake in the ground this merging of stuff and place. Shelving has been ordered! Bookcases acquired! I have tried hard to calculate what needs a home and be stored, but here we go!