Pam’s Pictorama Post: As someone who has a publicly professed love of cats, my affection for dogs should not be denied. Even when it comes to toys I frequently have to shake my head with regret that I do not have space (or resources) to collect those as well. In reality, there are probably more great antique toy dogs than cats. I occasionally give in and purchase a canine toy, Bonzo is a favorite! (Some doggone good posts can be found here, here and here.)
Kim bought me this little metal painted fellow at an antique store in New Jersey over the Christmas holiday. I like his erect, watchful attitude. Despite his paint loss, he is still a chipper white with a jolly red collar and somehow still has a little gleam in his eye. He’s got a nubbin of a tail. From one profile he looks ready to play and from the other side more guard pup. I sort of wonder if he was considered a toy or if he was more of a collectible even in his day.
Playful profile. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.
I have written some about the dogs of my past, my German Shepard Duchess in particular as a kid. (A post for a favorite photo postcard where I also talk about her can be found here.) Other dogs of my childhood included a beagle mixed named Charlie Brown (a bit of a miscreant mutt), and a terribly frighten cockapoo rescue named Pooch who you could never get near. So for all the many cats there was a fairly constant background of dogs too. My childhood was a cheerful parade of animals, all found by my mother with the exception of a few who found us.
As ongoing Pictorama readers know, I recently made a wholesale change in jobs and I now oversee fundraising for a large veterinary hospital and my dog petting time has skyrocketed overnight. Thus far I have met many more dogs than cats and while some of the dogs are clearly (if understandably) unhappy about being there, a surprising number are perfectly happy to be petted and even climb in my lap. (It’s a wash and wear life these days, lots of drool and fur.)
I do not know what Cookie and Blackie think of the smell of me when I come home now. (Goodness, what trash has she been associating with today?) Cookie did give my shoes a major sniffy going over the other evening. However, since I began regular visits to the five cats in New Jersey I think they have adjusted their idea of exactly what I do when I leave the house in the morning. I used to speculate that they thought I went to the vet every day since it was the only place out of the apartment they had ever been – now that appears to be true.
A photo of some boxes arriving at the new office – picture was taken to thank Daniel at JALC who sent them over.
This little metal mascot may come to work with me and guard me there. I am thinking that maybe the office will be a bit of a repository of doggie items. I have finally moved some of the essential items over, such as the elephant box Kim made (post about that and other office desk items can be found here) and bevy of plastic pigs and a cat given to me by my friend Eileen, and of course a gold lucky waving cat. (My penchant for those is penned about here.) I concentrate better when surrounded by these familiar items, although I am getting used to storing dog beds and cat toys from Galas past too.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today is the annual Christmas card reveal. clearly this year we celebrate the whole Butler crew, all eight kitties, including Hobo.
We are ensconced here at Oxford Avenue for the holiday duration this year. I have inaugurated the holidays by acquiring a violent stomach virus so this may be a bit brief. It’s an odd year, my first without my mom and I am feeling it even more keenly than I thought I would. I am usually pro-Christmas and manage holiday cheer even under duress. This year is tough, although I am curled up here in New Jersey with Kim and all the kitties which helps. Drinking fluids! No baking while this is going on.
Last year’s card – Blackie and Cookie solo in front of our apartment window.
The card has a double meaning this year as I leave Jazz at Lincoln Center for the very different world of fundraising for the Schwarzman Animal Medical Center. Animal lover and rescuer of animals as she was, all of us think Mom would find that an appropriate switch; she was always concerned that my job at Jazz was too exhausting for the long haul, with its travel and many nights.
AMC will be unlike anything I have done before and I don’t dismiss the difference and the adjustment – all fundraising is not the same. Still, my brain itches to engage with new challenges and I think building a full fundraising operation for them is the next best chapter.
Blackie is stalking around the New Jersey house; Cookie has returned to her safe spot under a chair in the bedroom. Beau and Blackie had a hissy hello last night. I think the other New Jersey cats remain largely unaware. There is always an adjustment period.
Kim has taken over my office for the duration and, after a few false starts for a new dip pen holder and something for his ink, he is inking away upstairs.
The original Pam Butler pencil drawing.
This year’s card was conceived of and drawn by me as a tribute to my new cat family and job – I include my original pencil for the first time. Kim inked it and added the logo which is properly Deitchien. Each cat gets a proper portrait. Kim added a little maniacal twist to Cookie who is chasing her tail (as she still does almost daily at 10 years of age) and Beau and Blackie are facing off a bit.
So our best wishes for the holidays and the New Year from us at Deitch Studio and Pictorama. Hope you enjoy it!
Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today is a personal post. For those of you who are just in it for the photos and the toys, you might want to go back to finishing the holiday cards (ours coming up next weekend!), but for others you might want to get that second cup of coffee and settle in.
As I have alluded to in recent prior posts, I am finishing my last few days at Jazz at Lincoln Center. For almost seven years I have been their chief fundraiser and occasionally chronicled my work life here. The early days of figuring it out, nascent traveling with the orchestra, learning the rhythms and pace (very fast) of the place. I have likened it to leaping onto a speeding train.
JLCO taking a break outside of a Cracker Barrel restaurant during BBH Tour 2017.
Tonight I will attend my last Big Band Holiday concert as staff. Early in my work life I toured with the orchestra for Big Band Holiday, through Florida and much of the southeast. (That post can be found here.) I had made a nascent trip to Shanghai (and wrote about that here) in the first few months, but it was the Big Band Holiday tour that really made me understand what it was like for the orchestra when they were on the road and what was and was not going to be possible in terms of fundraising on those trips.
I wrote occasionally about the long Zoom-filled pandemic days – especially hard at a performing arts organizing which can no longer perform. I had to dig deep into my creativity to fundraise successfully, always hand in hand with Wynton Marsalis who proved to be an invaluable leader. Coming out of those pandemic days have been hard on managers. We are expected to mitigate both the needs of executive leadership and our staff. First the Great Resignation as folks settled into new careers and lives sometimes across the country from where they started.
Final evening at Dizzy’s this past week. Mary Stalling and the amazing Emmett Cohen Trio.
The longing to return to a pre-Covid office life is understandable, but not entirely practical as our staff has become accustom to more flexibility. Ours was a great office culture before Covid so it has been sad to see the office anemically filled, no longer teeming with musicians and bustling with energy. Sadly, longing for something doesn’t make it so. You need to create something new instead. A September mandated five day return to office was not the right catalyst.
As many of you know, my time there also morphed into the period I cared for my mother who had her final illness in New Jersey over the first four months of this year. I am beyond grateful for the thoughtfulness of Jazz at Lincoln Center and my colleagues while I traveled back and forth, frequently working days from there weekly until for a period at the end when I stayed in New Jersey. (Those days and that unusual time is in posts here and here.)
****
Mom died in April and left me her house with five cats (plus Hobo, our outdoor pal). With the addition of Cookie and Blackie (the New York cats) that bring us more or less to eight. I became a crazy cat lady overnight – but I like to say mom had me in training for years! Kim and I packed the cats up and we spent five weeks in Jersey at the end of the summer. (A few posts about our lazy summer days can be found here and here.)
Without realizing it, I guess this brought me to the end of one period of my life and to the threshold of something different. I am not sure I knew that until late this fall someone put me in touch with the Schwarzman Animal Medical Center which was looking for someone to develop its fundraising arm. As I spoke with them I began to get excited about the opportunities I could see for them and my brain started shifting gears.
Paying a visit to Blackie at AMC. Was crawling on the floor trying to get him to eat tuna from my hand.
Some of you will remember that a year ago, Blackie was very sick and spent (and very expensive) week there while they saved his life after a dramatic infection suddenly took over his body. Although I mentioned it, I never posted about the very dark week we had while he was there. He was, in their words, a very sick kitty indeed and we are of course very grateful patients.
Blackie sporting a bright pink bandage after he came home.
The Animal Medical Center was founded in 1911 by a group of women who were volunteering for the nascent ASPCA and recognized the need for veterinary care for animals as well as their welfare. I plan to dig into this lore and I’m sure I will be sharing tidbits over time.
Today it is the largest animal hospital of its kind in the world, serving more than 50,000 animals a year. It is an elite veterinary facility where young vets train and research is done. I hope to help them expand what they do in these and other areas, including funding the free services they offer to the City’s police dogs and horse, our zoos and rescue animals which need surgical intervention.
Yoda the police dog being honored at the Top Dog AMC Gala this week.
I will miss my colleagues at Jazz, especially the endlessly talented musicians in the band, not to mention the nights at Dizzy’s – listening to Bill Charlap while the summer sun sets over Central Park – and the concerts in the hall. Dinners planned around the music and the stunning views of Columbus Circle. I will miss the daily encounters with folks who know me and I know them and we are part of a well-oiled machine together.
I find change painful and as I navigate the first holidays without my mom, this additional parting of the ways has sometimes overwhelmed me. Change is hard. Growing is hard, but you need to pay attention to the voice that urges you forward to the next thing.
Tonight, a final Big Band Holiday concert in the hall. Then we head to New Jersey for three weeks at the end of this week. Obviously I will post from there, but I am hoping it can be a few weeks of cookie baking and reflection. The new gig starts mid-January. So we gently close one chapter and head to the next.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: In both life and in collecting I show a marked preference (purfference?) for cats over dogs. Having said that, it isn’t that I don’t like dogs and I think if I had more resources, including space, I might collect dogs too in greater or even equal shares. (To say nothing of additional pet ownership which cannot currently include canines.)
Last Christmas I wrote about a black and white toy dog I carried insistently everywhere as a child – Squeaky. (As it happens I still own Squeaky and that post can be read here.) I suppose it isn’t surprising that I was very involved with and possessive of my stuffed animals as a child, early signs of a collector. I was a bit linear in my affection – first it was Squeaky who was carried everywhere, followed by a Koala bear my father brought me from a work trip to Australia. The bear had no name, but he was carried until he was bald of fur (probably rabbit fur, sadly, in retrospect) in spots. I no longer have him unfortunately although I did find this type of toy and shared previously here. There were probably earlier denizens who I do not remember.
Me and Squeaky. This is a Christmas morning shot, but I don’t think it was when I got him. Just professing my undying affection for him probably!
My childhood was also filled with a series of real pooches, from our German Shephard Duchess to a rather maniacal mixed breed hound named Charlie Brown. I like dogs and generally they like me. Occasionally I find my enthusiasm gets the best of me and discover I have encouraged a very large dog to try sitting on my lap as a result. (When this happened with a friend’s German Shephard it did give me some pause. There was also an enormous Tibetan Mastiff who like the cut of my jib when he met me and just about knocked me over with love.)
Has a little green tail! The only green bit on him.
All that leads to today’s purchase, a gift from Kim who offered to grab him up for me! This new guy came via Instagram and our friends in Texas @Curiosities. There is something about him that reminds me of blankets of my childhood. Some of his color is fabric overlays (the red on his jowls) and other is painted on. His nose and mouth are sort of shaved into the surface “fur” or texture of his face. He has glass eyes and I think a friendly dependable expression. There is pink under his mouth which I think is a random addition but works with the color scheme overall.
Squeaky!
I am told that the original seller said he was German, or at least that he came from Germany. He has no tags. His colors and design make me think of Pendleton blankets, a Canadian export embraced in my childhood as well. His red ribbon is worn and I assume is original – matches the red on his face perfectly. His ears (which are stiff with wire) have been carefully resewn in back. He’s about 12 inches high, including his ears.
He is much softer in person than I imagined and he is somewhat stained with years of love and handling. I think the orange stripe from his mouth and on his cheeks are especially interesting. He is made up of a fascinating bunch of colors. In sum, he is a handsome fellow who has been much loved.
So another dog sneaks into Deitch Studio and the Pictorama collection. May the kitties beware!
Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Today’s is an odd photo postcard I picked up recently. In 1902 Kodak introduced photo postcard packages were able to print their negatives right on them and I imagine that this card, sent in 1905 seems to be of this genre.
As I envision the making and using of these cards (something I actually have spent some time pondering) I wonder if they made a little pile of them at a time or only printed the one off. Will I someday be searching through eBay or a pile of photos and find the exact card but with a different message? (Imagine my surprise!) It seems like it could happen, but it never has to date.
This card, as is declared decoratively at the top, was sent on December 21st, 1905 from Berlin, New York. After some serious study, it appears to have been sent to Mr. J. E. Whiteker in Barnstead, New Hampshire. (There’s one word I can’t quite figure out – center? outer? Barnstead.) There is also a notation in pencil in the upper right corner, 7/27/75 15￠.
Shown as a plump puss with a fairly satisfied look on his face which belies the message to some degree. He is perched on some sort of print fabric and behind him there is a check tablecloth piled high with books.
The message on the card appears to read as follows, Dear Brother (?) This is the cat that didn’t kill the rat – we didn’t get a good picture. (Serve?) him a good Xmas dinner and make him grovel for it. “A personal Christmas to you from us. Herbert. Clearly a message of great holiday cheer.
Inability to execute a rodent notwithstanding, kitty looks pretty well fed and happy. A smile lurks in his genial expression. At a glance, he doesn’t really have the promising appearance of a rat killer, although with cats looks can deceive I suppose.
Miltie, napping nicely.
This sort of stripe-y tom is reminiscent of several of the New Jersey crew I inherited. Milty, a stray from Newark and Peaches, rescued from a basement in Long Branch, both fall into this distinctly indistinct category of cat. Most notably, our outdoor man, christened Hobo by me a few years back, fits this bill as well. (Peaches hates Hobo and looks the most like him!) The ongoing Hobo story is known to Pictorama habitués, but his tale is below.
I can’t remember precisely when Hobo showed up except that I believe it was after mom adopted Stormy, a gray and white kitten who was also being fed at the backdoor. Like my mom’s other rescues, she showed up persistently and was looking increasingly poorly when mom trapped her with the intention of spaying and releasing her. She turned out to be a very shy, but good natured kitty and she never returned to the outdoors. (She still chases her tail, like our Cookie!) Therefore, Hobo probably came into the fold around April of ’22.
Stormy.
Hobo, a bit of a reprobate, has resisted trapping. He’s a wily fellow who, when he is around, will ask for meals several times a day, leading me to think he has worms and wondering if I might slip something for them into his food. Last year this time mom was fairly focused on trying to get him trapped and in before the winter, but try as Winsome and I might we could not entice him in, making me wonder if he had been trapped in a cage before.
Peaches and Hobo. Next to Peaches is a favorite toy rat which is often a gift on my bed when I am there.
Unlike the others mom eventually trapped and adopted (I inherited five cats, plus Hobo from her when she died in April – yes, plus two here in NY), Hobo has the real earmarks of a life lived outside. I’m sure he looks older than his years and of course living the outdoor life, while sort of swinging and intriguing, is likely to drastically reduce his life span. (A Peaches to Hobo comparison below!)
Over the summer I had a video texted to me by a horrified Winsome who came across Hobo feasting on a rat! Evidently he had also brought her a dead mouse – gracious acknowledgment of the many meals she has given him. Clearly however he was supplementing his protein with a bit of a la carte dining. I had the opposite reaction and said he deserved a promotion and give that cat some treats! (We are not far from the water and we are always somewhat in danger of being overrun by rats.)
Sadly, Hobo seems to be on the lamb these days and hasn’t shown up in more than a week. Winsome reports daily and has tried leaving food out for him in case he is visiting at odd hours. It isn’t the longest he’s been gone and I believe (hope) there are other folks in the neighborhood who feed and look out for him. (We’ve seen him picking his way, very dignified, through other yards and down local streets.) We are decamping for several weeks in New Jersey and I am hoping he reappears then if not before.
Edit: I received an update tonight that Hobo showed for a late dinner! We’re very glad he is back in the fold.
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.
****
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!
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.
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!
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.
****
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 toaston 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!
Pam’s Pictorama Post: It is Fourth of July morning and here in New York we are waking to wet and threatening skies after a night of thunder storms. I was never afraid of them as a child, but have grown to dislike them as an adult, perhaps in sympathy with a general sense of distrust of them among the felines. (Cookie and Blackie will bear up to a point and then, Cookie in particular will migrate to the front door, the innermost spot in the apartment, and look at us like we’re nuts if we remain on the couch by the windows.) Up on the 16th floor the winds howl a bit greater than at ground level, but my dislike is no lesser when in the house in Jersey, with rain pounding on that small structure.
Carl Schurz Park.
Having been caught in the rain while running yesterday and I am watching the fast moving clouds and calculating my opportunity for getting away with an hour of running in a bit. The jury is out as I write, but running is my only real plan for the day which may disintegrate into cleaning and organizing the apartment. In a small space like this it always seems to be a need, the cleaning and organizing.
Recently I wondered if I was neglecting the apartment in favor of work needing to be done, paid for and directed in New Jersey. Still, new carpet pads have been purchased for Deitch Studio and I need to trim them and wrestle them into place. I have replaced an especially tatty rug. I clean and organize, and organize some more!
Recent rug purchase for Deitch Studio.(Washable and largely cat proof.)
I will head out to New Jersey tomorrow and I expect that this entry will be finished there. I look forward to seeing how the garden has grown – the blueberry bushes were laden with their yet to ripen wares when I was last there and I am hoping to beat the critters to at least some of them. I understand that the tomato and pepper plants are performing admirably.
The jasmine plant I wrote about last week seems to grow before my eyes and it is embracing its trellis.
The strawberry plant is young, although it has filled out the strawberry pot I plunked it in, but I am only hoping for a taste there. I still am amazed at the simple act of growing food. It has always seemed a bit magical. The herb garden has already provided for many an omelet and a series of sauces, but somehow vegetables seem to be another story.
In mom’s honor I planted a row of sunflowers along the fence outside of our bedroom. I remember her planting some for us kids when we were very little and our shock and joy at how enormous they grew against our little house, as tall as my towering father. I am hoping to find them sprouted and on their way skyward. A friend and her small child are living at the house and I hope she too will be entertained by them.
*****
It is a week later as I write from New Jersey. Much going on in this small world. The strawberry plant, which I transplanted into this strawberry pot a month or so ago has produced its first strawberry!(Someone, my money is on a chip monk, stole it right out from under my nose however; I have yet to taste this bounty.) Multiple flowers however and a few in an early transitional state lead us to hope it isn’t the last.
One of the pepper plants has coughed up its first progeny, with many more to follow as well I hope.
The first of the bell peppers.
The tomatoes have gone “plumb wild” and are requiring constant staking to help them bear up under the burden of their produce. The tomatoes started out in a sunny back corner of the yard before an enormous bush grew to hide them completely. Luckily it doesn’t block the sun and the tomatoes are growing gloriously.
Initial harvest!
Someone, something, has neatly consumed those sunflower seeds and nary a flower has sprouted. In defiance I purchase two plants that are well underway as replacements.
The bookcases in their before mode, fresh from Suzanne’s basement.
Meanwhile, a good friend answered my appeal for bookcases and dug not one but two out of her basement. A few days have been devoted to giving one a new coat of paint and cleaning up the wood and glass on the other. It has been decades since I have done this kind of work on furniture; I think I was still a kid and doing it under my mom’s supervision. I suspect my muscles will tell me all about it tomorrow. The glass front case is a particular dandy though. I am tempted to use it for toys although it sees better suited for books.
The cleaned up bookcase after considerable elbow grease and help from a friend who had keys made for the locks on the doors which keep them closed.You’ll note the cat proofing on the chairs.
Tonight I pulled the grill out and made a pile of vegetables for dinner. This grill was new last summer. For some reason my mom was insistent that we buy it and that I break it in immediately which I did. However, the heat of the late summer made it a less attractive option than it might be in the cooler weather and I admittedly never really got the hang of it. Luckily however I taped my introductory lesson from a friend and manage to get it started and pull off a fairly credible dinner of grilled vegetables.
*****
Another raging thunderstorm woke me up early and the Jersey cat crew took advantage and got me up early to feed them. I don’t like thunderstorms any better when residing in the house in New Jersey and my real inclination is to burrow back under the blankets. These cats seem entirely unfazed.
This little fellow has camouflaged himself nicely, near one of mom’s many bunny garden statues.
When the sun comes burning out a couple of hours later I witness multiple bunnies (all different sizes!) having an absolute wild rabbit romp in the yard. They chase each other, run and jump high. Later in the day someone tells me they are eating the clover in the yard. I am sorry I don’t have a chance to film it.
Citronella growing like topsy on the deck (and doing nothing for the mosquitoes!) and an injured catnip plant I just rescued is in front of the strawberry pot. Let’s see what the kits make of that!
Despite bug spray and the presence of some lovely citronella plants, mosquitoes abound and feast on me. When I was a kid these bits would balloon up and practically take over whole limbs. Now they are just an annoying itching reminder which I will take back to New York City with me.
The next New Jersey post will likely be after Deitch Studio moves down – part and parcel, Kim, kits and art supplies in August for the remainder of the summer. Stay tuned.
Pam's Pictorama 